THE  NOVELS  OF 
•BIRMINGHAM 


LALAGE'S  LOVERS 
vSPANISH    GOLD 
THE    SEARCH  PARTY 
THE    SIMPKINS  PLOT 
THE  MAJOR'S  NIECE 


BERTRAND  SMITHS 
ACRES  Of-   BOOKS 
MO  PACIFIC  AVENUE 

LONG   BEACH     CALIF 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 


UNIFORM  EDITION  of  the  WORKS  of 

G.    A.    BIRMINGHAM 

Each,  net 


LALAGE'S  LOVERS 
SPAN  I S  H  GOLD 
THE  SEARCH  PARTY 
THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 
THE  MAJOR'S  NIECE 


GEORGE    H.    DORAN    COMPANY 

NEW    YORK 


1  HE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

BY 

G.  A.  BIRMINGHAM 

AUTHOR  OK  "SPANISH  GOLD. '  "LALAGE'S  LOVERS" 


HODDER  &  STOUGHTON 

NEW  YORK 
GEORGE  H.  DORAN  COMPANY 


Copyright,  1912, 
By  George  H.  Doran  Company 


SRLF 
URt 


TO 

R.  H. 

IN  MEMORY  OF  MANY  SUMMER  EVENINGS  WHEN  WE 

DRIFTED  HOME,    UNTROUBLED  BY  THE 

LOVE  AFFAIRS  OF  SIMPKINS 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 


CHAPTER  I 

THE  platform  at  Euston  was  crowded,  and  the  por- 
ters' barrows  piled  high  with  luggage.  During  the 
last  week  in  July  the  Irish  mail  carries  a  heavy  load  of 
passengers,  and  for  the  twenty  minutes  before  its  de- 
parture people  are  busy  endeavouring  to  secure  their  own 
comfort  and  the  safety  of  their  belongings.  There  are 
schoolboys,  with  portmanteaux,  play-boxes,  and  hand- 
bags, escaping  home  for  the  summer  holidays.  There 
are  sportsmen,  eager  members  of  the  Stock  Exchange 
or  keen  lawyers,  on  their  way  to  Donegal  or  Clare  for 
fishing.  There  are  tourists,  the  holders  of  tickets  which 
promise  them  a  round  of  visits  to  famous  beauty  spots. 
There  are  members  of  the  House  of  Lords,  who  have 
accomplished  their  labours  as  legislators — and  their 
wives,  peeresses,  who  have  done  their  duty  by  the  Lon- 
don season — on  their  way  back  to  stately  mansions  in 
the  land  from  which  they  draw  their  incomes.  Great 
people  these  in  drawing-rooms  or  clubs;  greater  still  in 
the  remote  Irish  villages  which  their  names  still  dom- 
inate ;  but  not  particularly  great  on  the  Euston  platform, 
for  there  is  little  respect  of  persons  there  as  the  time  of 
the  train's  departure  draws  near.  A  porter  pushed  his 

X 


2  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

barrow,  heavy  with  trunks  and  crowned  with  gun-cases, 
against  the  legs  of  an  earl,  who  swore.  A  burly  man, 
red  faced  and  broad  shouldered,  elbowed  a  marchioness 
who,  not  knowing  how  to  swear  effectively,  tried  to 
wither  him  with  a  glance.  She  failed.  The  man  who 
had  jostled  her  had  small  reverence  for  rank  or  title. 
He  was,  besides,  in  a  hurry,  and  had  no  time  to  spend  in 
apologising  to  great  ladies. 

Sir  Gilbert  Hawkesby  was  one  of  his  Majesty's  judges. 
He  had  won  his  position  by  sheer  hard  work  and  com- 
manding ability.  He  had  not  stopped  in  his  career  to 
soothe  the  outraged  dignity  of  those  whom  he  pushed 
aside;  and  he  had  no  intention  now  of  delaying  his 
progress  along  the  railway  platform  to  explain  to  a 
marchioness  why  he  had  jostled  her.  It  was  only  by 
a  vigorous  use  of  his  elbows  that  he  could  make  his  way  ; 
and  it  ought  to  have  been  evident,  even  to  a  peeress, 
that  he  meant  to  go  from  one  end  of  the  train  to  the 
other.  His  eyes  glanced  sharply  right  and  left  as  he 
pushed  on.  He  peered  through  the  windows  of  the  car- 
riages. He  scanned  each  figure  in  the  crowd.  At  last 
he  caught  sight  of  a  lady  standing  beside  the  bookstall. 
She  wore  a  long  grey  cloak  and  a  dark  travelling-hat. 
She  stooped  over  the  books  and  papers  on  the  stall  be- 
fore her;  and  her  face,  in  profile  as  Sir  Gilbert  saw  it, 
was  lit  by  the  flaring  gas  above  her  head.  Having  caught 
sight  of  her,  the  judge  pushed  on  even  more  vigorously 
than  before. 

"  Here  I  am,  Milly,"  he  said.  "  I  said  I'd  be  in  time 
to  see  you  off,  and  I  am ;  but  owing  to — " 

The  lady  at  the  bookstall  turned  and  looked  at  him. 
She  flushed  suddenly,  and  then  as  suddenly  grew  pale. 
She  raised  her  hand  hurriedly  and  pulled  her  veil  over 


her  face.  Sir  Gilbert  stared  at  her  in  amazement.  Then 
his  face,  too,  changed  colour. 

"  I — I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said ;  "  I  mistook  you  for 
my  niece.  It's  quite  inconceivable  to  me  how  I — a  most 
remarkable  likeness.  I'm  astonished  that  I  didn't  notice 
it  before.  The  fact  is — under  the  circumstances — " 

Sir  Gilbert  was  acutely  uncomfortable.  Never  in  the 
course  of  a  long  career  at  the  bar  had  he  felt  so  hope- 
lessly embarrassed.  On  no  occasion  in  his  life,  so  far 
as  he  could  remember,  had  he  been  reduced  to  stammer- 
ing incoherencies.  It  had  not  occurred  to  him  to  apol- 
ogise to  the  jostled  marchioness  a  few  minutes  before. 
He  was  now  anxious  to  abase  himself  before  the  lady  at 
the  bookstall. 

"  I  sincerely  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said.  "  I  should 
not  have  dreamed  for  a  moment  of  intruding  myself  on 
you  if  I  had  known.  I  ought  to  have  recognised  you. 
I  can't  understand — " 

The  lady  laid  down  the  book  she  held  in  her  hand, 
and  turned  her  back  on  Sir  Gilbert.  She  crossed  the 
platform,  and  entered  a  carriage  without  looking  back. 
Sir  Gilbert  stood  stiff  and  awkward  beside  the  bookstall. 

"  It's  a  most  extraordinary  likeness,"  he  muttered.  "  I 
can't  understand  why  I  didn't  notice  it  before.  I  can't 
have  ever  really  looked  at  her." 

Then,  avoiding  the  carriage  which  the  lady  had  en- 
tered, he  walked  further  along  the  platform.  He  was 
much  less  self-assertive  in  his  progress.  He  threaded 
his  way  instead  of  elbowing  it  through  the  crowd.  The 
most  fragile  peeress  might  have  jostled  him,  and  he 
would  not  have  resented  it. 

"  Uncle  Gilbert !  Is  that  you  ?  I  was  afraid  you  were 
going  to  be  late." 


4  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

The  judge  turned  quickly.  A  lady,  another  lady, 
leaned  out  of  the  window  of  a  first-class  compartment 
and  greeted  him.  He  stared  at  her.  The  likeness  was 
less  striking  now  when  he  looked  at  his  niece's  full  face ; 
but  it  was  there,  quite  unmistakable:  a  sufficient  excuse 
for  the  blunder  he  had  made. 

"Ah,  Milly,"  he  said;  "you  really  are  Milly,  aren't 
you?  I've  just  had  a  most  extraordinary  encounter  with 
your  double.  It's  a  most  remarkable  coincidence;  quite 
the  thing  for  one  of  your  novels.  By  the  way,  how's 
the  new  one  getting  on  ?  " 

"Which  one?  I'm  just  correcting  a  set  of  proofs, 
and  I'm  deep  in  the  plot  of  another.  That's  what's  tak- 
ing me  over  to  Ireland.  I  thought  I'd  told  you." 

"Yes,  yes;  local  colour  you  said  in  your  letter. 
Studying  the  wild  Hibernian  on  his  native  soil ;  but  really, 
Milly,  when  you've  heard  my  story  you  won't  want  to 
go  to  Ireland  for  wild  improbabilities.  But  I  can't  tell 
you  now.  There  isn't  time.  We'll  meet  in  Bally-what- 
do-you-call-it  next  week." 

"  And  you'll  stay  with  me,  Uncle  Gilbert,  won't  you  ? 
The  house  I've  taken  appears  to  be  a  perfect  barrack. 
According  to  the  agent,  there  are  any  amount  of  spare 
bedrooms." 

"  No,"  said  the  judge ;  "  I've  taken  rooms  at  the  hotel. 
The  fact  is,  Milly,  when  I'm  fishing  I  like  to  rough  it  a 
bit.  Besides  I  should  only  be  in  your  way.  You'll  be 
working  tremendously  hard." 

Neither  excuse  expressed  Sir  Gilbert's  real  reason  for 
refusing  his  niece's  invitation.  He  did  not  like  rough- 
ing it,  and  he  did  not  think  it  the  least  likely  that  his 
presence  in  the  house  would  interfere  with  her  work. 
On  the  contrary,  her  work  was  likely  to  interfere  with 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  5 

his  comfort.  He  was  fond  of  his  niece,  but  he  disliked 
her  habit  of  reading  passages  from  her  MSS.  aloud  in  the 
evenings.  She  was  very  much  absorbed  in  her  novel- 
writing,  and  took  her  work  with  a  seriousness  which 
struck  the  judge  as  ridiculous. 

"  I'll  dine  with  you  occasionally,"  he  said,  "  but  I  shall 
put  up  at  the  hotel.  By  the  way,  Milly,  am  I  your  tenant 
or  are  you  mine?  I  left  all  the  arrangements  in  your 
hands." 

"  I  took  the  house  and  the  fishing,"  she  said.  "  The 
agent  man  wouldn't  let  one  without  the  other;  but  you 
have  to  pay  most  of  the  rent.  The  salmon  are  the  really 
valuable  part  of  the  property,  it  appears." 

"  All  right,"  said  Sir  Gilbert ;  "  so  long  as  the  fishing 
is  good  I  won't  quarrel  with  you  over  my  share  of  the 
rent.  The  house  would  only  have  been  a  nuisance  to 
me.  I  should  have  had  to  bring  over  servants,  and  that 
would  have  worried  your  aunt.  Ah!  Your  time's  up, 
I  see.  Good-bye,  Milly,  good-bye.  Take  care  of  your- 
self, and  don't  get  mixed  up  with  shady  people  in  your 
search  for  originality.  I'll  start  this  day  week  as  soon 
as  ever  I  get  your  aunt  settled  down  at  Bournemouth." 

Millicent  King,  Sir  Gilbert  Hawkesby's  niece,  was  a 
young  woman  of  some  little  importance  in  the  world. 
The  patrons  of  the  circulating  libraries  knew  her  as  Ena 
Dunkeld,  and  shook  their  heads  over  her.  The  gentle- 
men who  add  to  the  meagre  salaries  they  earn  in  govern- 
ment offices  by  writing  reviews  knew  her  under  both  her 
names,  for  no  literary  secrets  are  hid  from  them.  They 
praised  her  novels  publicly,  and  in  private  yawned  over 
her  morality.  Many  people,  her  aunt  Lady  Hawkesby 
among  them,  very  strongly  disapproved  of  her  novels. 
Certain  problems,  so  these  ladies  maintained,  ought  to 


6  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

be  discussed  only  in  scientific  books,  labelled  "  poison  " 
for  the  safety  of  the  public,  and  ought  never  to  be  dis- 
cussed at  all  by  young  women.  Millicent  King,  rendered 
obstinate  by  these  criticisms,  plunged  deeper  and  deeper 
into  a  kind  of  mire  which,  after  a  time,  she  began  to 
dislike  very  much.  She  had  in  reality  simple  tastes  of  a 
domestic  kind,  and  might  have  been  very  happy  sewing 
baby  clothes  if  she  had  married  a  peaceable  man  and 
kept  out  of  literary  society.  Fortunately,  or  unfortu- 
nately— the  choice  of  the  adverb  depends  upon  the  views 
taken  of  the  value  of  detailed  analysis  of  marriage  prob- 
lems— Miss  King  had  not  come  across  any  man  of  a  suit- 
able kind  who  wanted  to  marry  her.  She  had,  on  the 
other  hand,  met  a  large  number  of  people  who  praised, 
and  a  few  who  abused  her.  She  liked  the  flattery,  and 
was  pleased  to  be  pointed  out  as  a  person  of  importance. 
She  regarded  abuse  as  a  tribute  to  the  value  of  her  work, 
knowing  that  all  true  prophets  suffer  under  the  evil 
speaking  of  a  censorious  world.  Latterly  she  had  begun 
to  consider  whether  she  might  not  secure  the  praise,  with- 
out incurring  the  blame  by  writing  novels  of  a  different 
kind.  With  a  view  to  perfecting  a  new  story  of  ad- 
venture and  perfectly  respectable  love,  she  determined 
to  isolate  herself  for  a  couple  of  months.  As  certain 
Irishmen  played  a  part  in  her  story,  she  fixed  upon  Con- 
nacht  as  the  place  of  her  retirement,  intending  to  study 
the  romantic  Celt  on  his  native  soil.  A  house  advertised 
in  the  columns  of  The  Field  seemed  to  offer  her  the 
opportunity  she  desired.  She  took  it  and  the  fishing  at- 
tached to  it ;  having  bargained  with  her  uncle,  Sir  Gilbert 
Hawkesby,  that  she  was  to  be  relieved  of  the  duty  of 
catching  salmon,  and  that  he  should  pay  a  considerable 
part  of  the  heavy  rent  demanded  by  the  local  agent. 


CHAPTER  II_ 

THERE  are  a  few  things  better  managed  in  Ireland 
than  in  England,  and  one  of  them  is  the  starting 
of  important  railway  trains.  The  departure,  for  in- 
stance, of  the  morning  mail  from  the  Dublin  terminus  of 
the  Midland  and  Great  Western  Railway  is  carried 
through,  day  after  day,  with  dignity.  The  hour  is  an 
early  one,  7  a.m. ;  but  all  the  chief  officials  of  the  com- 
pany are  present,  tastefully  dressed.  There  is  no  fuss. 
Passengers  know  that  it  is  their  duty  to  be  at  the  station 
not  later  than  a  quarter  to  seven.  If  they  have  any  lug- 
gage they  arrive  still  earlier,  for  the  porters  must  not  be 
hustled.  At  ten  minutes  to  seven  the  proper  officials 
conduct  the  passengers  to  their  carriages  and  pen  them  in. 
Lest  any  one  of  independent  and  rebellious  spirit  should 
escape,  and  insist  on  loitering  about  the  platform,  the 
doors  of  the  compartments  are  all  locked.  No  Irishman 
resents  this  treatment.  Members  of  a  conquered  race, 
they  are  meek,  and  have  long  ago  given  up  the  hope  of 
being  able  to  resist  the  mandates  of  official  people. 

Strangers,  Englishmen  on  tour,  are  easily  recognised 
by  their  self-assertive  demeanour  and  ill-bred  offences 
against  the  solemn  etiquette  of  the  railway  company. 
Since  it  is  impossible  to  teach  these  people  manners  or 
meekness,  the  guards  and  porters  treat  them,  as  far  as 

7 


8 

possible,  with  patient  forbearance.  They  must,  of 
course,  be  got  into  the  train,  but  the  doors  of  their  com- 
partments are  not  locked.  It  has  been  found  by  expe- 
rience that  English  travellers  object  to  being  imprisoned 
without  trial,  and  quote  regulations  of  the  Board  of 
Trade  forbidding  the  locking  of  both  doors  of  a  rail- 
way carriage.  There  is  nothing  to  be  gained  by  a  public 
wrangle  with  an  angry  Englishman.  He  cannot  be  got 
to  understand  that  laws,  those  of  the  Board  of  Trade  or 
any  other,  are  not  binding  on  Irish  officials.  There  is 
only  one  way  of  treating  him  without  loss  of  dignity,  and 
that  is  to  give  in  to  him  at  once,  with  a  jshrug  of  the 
shoulders. 

Thus,  Miss  King,  entering  upon  the  final  stage  of  her 
journey  to  Ballymoy,  reaped  the  benefit  of  belonging  to 
a  conquering  and  imperial  race.  She  was,  indeed,  put 
into  her  compartment,  a  first-class  one,  ten  minutes  be- 
fore the  train  started ;  but  her  door,  alone  of  all  the  doors, 
was  left  unlocked.  The  last  solemn  minutes  before  the 
departure  of  the  train  passed  slowly.  Grave  men  in 
uniform  paraded  the  platform,  glancing  occasionally  at 
their  watches.  The  engine-driver  watched  from  his 
cabin  for  the  waving  of  the  green  flag  which  would  au- 
thorise him  to  push  over  his  levers  and  start  the  train. 
The  great  moment  had  almost  arrived.  The  guard  held 
his  whistle  to  his  lips,  and  had  the  green  flag,  ready  to 
be  unfurled,  in  his  left  hand.  Then  a  totally  unexpected, 
almost  an  unprecedented,  thing  occurred.  A  passenger 
walked  into  the  station  and  approached  the  train  with 
the  evident  intention  of  getting  into  it.  He  was  a  clergy- 
man, shabbily  dressed,  imperfectly  shaved,  red-haired, 
and  wearing  a  red  moustache.  He  carried  a  battered 
Gladstone  bag  in  one  hand.  The  guard  glanced  at  him 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  9 

and  then  distended  his  cheeks  with  air,  meaning  to  blow 
his  whistle. 

"  Hold  on  a  minute,"  said  the  clergyman.  "  I'm  think- 
ing of  travelling  by  this  train." 

The  audacity  of  this  statement  shook  the  self-posses- 
sion of  the  guard. 

"  Can't  wait,"  he  said.  "  Time's  up.  You  ought  to 
have  been  here  sooner." 

To  say  this  he  was  obliged  to  take  the  whistle  from 
his  lips ;  and  the  engine-driver,  who  had  a  strict  sense  of 
duty,  was  unable  to  start. 

"  As  a  matter  of  fact,"  said  the  clergyman,  "  I'm  not 
only  here  soon  enough,  I'm  an  hour  and  a  half  too  soon. 
The  train  I  intended  to  catch  is  the  next  one." 

The  guard  put  his  whistle  to  his  lips  again. 

"  If  you  blow  that  thing,"  said  the  clergyman,  "  before 
I'm  in  the  train,  I'll  take  an  action  against  the  company 
for  assault  and  battery." 

The  guard  hesitated.  He  did  not  see  how  such  an 
action  could  be  sustained  in  court ;  but  he  felt  the  neces- 
sity of  thinking  over  his  position  carefully  before  running 
any  risks.  The  law,  especially  in  Ireland,  is  a  curious 
thing,  and  no  wise  man  entangles  himself  with  it  if  he 
can  help  it.  Railway  guards  are  all  wise  men,  otherwise 
they  would  not  have  risen  to  their  high  positions. 

"  Now  that  I  am  here,"  said  the  clergyman,  "  I  may 
as  well  go  by  this  train.  Excuse  me  one  moment ;  I  want 
to  get  a  few  newspapers." 

This  was  gross  impertinence,  and  the  guard  was  in  no 
mood  to  stand  it.  He  blew  his  whistle.  The  engine 
shrieked  excitedly,  and  the  train  started  with  a  violent 
jerk. 

The  clergyman  seized  a  handful  of  newspapers  from 


io  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

the  bookstall.  Clinging  to  them  and  his  bag  he  ran 
across  the  platform.  He  tried  the  doors  of  two  third- 
class  compartments  as  they  passed  him,  and  found  them 
locked.  He  happened  next  upon  that  which  was  occu- 
pied by  Miss  King,  opened  the  door,  and  tumbled  in. 

"  I've  only  got  a  third-class  ticket,"  he  said  cheerfully ; 
"but  I  shall  travel  first  class  the  whole  way  now,  and 
I  shan't  pay  a  penny  of  excess  fare." 

"Won't  they  make  you?"  said  Miss  King. 

She  realised  that  she  had  found  an  unexpectedly  early 
opportunity  of  studying  the  peculiarities  of  the  Irish 
character,  and  determined  to  make  the  most  of  it. 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  the  clergyman.  "  The  position 
is  this.  I  have  a  through  ticket — I  bought  it  yesterday — 
which  entitles  me  to  travel  on  this  railway  to  Donard. 
If  the  doors  of  all  the  third-class  carriages  are  locked 
when  I  arrive  at  the  station,  I  take  it  that  the  company 
means  me  to  travel  first  class.  Their  own  action  is  a 
clear  indication  of  their  intention.  There  isn't  a  jury  in 
Ireland  would  give  it  against  me,  even  if  the  case  came 
into  court,  which,  of  course,  it  won't." 

"  I'm  going  to  Donard,  too,"  said  Miss  King. 

"  Are  you  ?  It's  a  wretched  hole  of  a  place.  I  don't 
advise  you  to  stop  there  long." 

"  I'm  not  staying  there  at  all.  I'm  driving  straight  on 
to  Ballymoy." 

"  If  you're  at  all  familiar  with  Ballymoy,  I  expect 
you've  heard  of  me.  My  name's  Meldon,  the  Reverend 
J.  J.  Meldon,  B.A.  I  was  curate  of  Ballymoy  once,  and 
everybody  who  was  there  in  my  time  will  be  talking 
about  me  still.  I'm  going  back  there  now  for  a  holiday." 

"  But  I'm  quite  a  stranger,"  said  Miss  King.  "  I've 
never  been  in  Ballymoy." 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  n 

Meldon  glanced  at  the  bag  which  lay  on  the  seat  be- 
fore her.  There  was  no  label  on  it,  but  it  bore  the 
initials  M.  K.  in  gold  letters  on  its  side. 

"  I  suppose,"  he  said,  "  that  you're  not  by  any  chance 
a  sister  or  a  niece  of  Major  Kent's  ?  " 

"  No.  I'm  not.  I  don't  even  know  Major  Kent.  My 
name  is  King.  Millicent  King." 

A  clergyman  is,  necessarily,  more  or  less  educated. 
Mr.  Meldon  had  proclaimed  himself  a  bachelor  of  arts. 
It  was  natural  to  suppose  that  he  would  have  known 
the  name,  even  the  real  name,  of  a  famous  living  novelist. 
Apparently  he  did  not.  Miss  King  felt  a  little  disap- 
pointed. 

"  I  daresay,"  said  Meldon,  without  showing  any  signs 
of  being  impressed,  "  that  you're  going  to  stop  with  the 
Resident  Magistrate." 

"  No,"  said  Miss  King  decisively. 

"  You  don't  look  like  the  sort  of  person  who'd  be  going 
on  a  visit  to  the  rectory." 

Miss  King  was  handsomely  dressed.  She  appeared  to 
be  a  lady  of  high  fashion;  not  at  all  likely  to  be  an  in- 
mate of  the  shabby  little  rectory  at  Ballymoy.  SJie  shook 
her  head.  Then,  because  she  did  not  like  being  cross- 
questioned,  she  put  an  end  to  the  conversation  by  open- 
ing her  bag  and  taking  out  a  bundle  of  typewritten 
papers.  She  was  quite  prepared  to  study  Mr.  Meldon 
as  a  type,  but  she  saw  no  reason  why  Mr.  Meldon  should 
study  her.  He  appeared  to  be  filled  with  an  ill-bred 
curiosity  which  she  determined  not  to  satisfy. 

Meldon  did  not  seem  to  resent  her  silence  in  the  least. 
He  leaned  back  in  his  seat  and  unfolded  one  of  the 
papers  he  had  snatched  from  the  bookstall.  It  was  a 
London  evening  paper  of  the  day  before,  and  contained 


12  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

a  full  account  of  the  last  scene  of  a  sensational  trial 
which  had  occupied  the  attention  of  the  public  for  some 
time.  A  Mrs.  Lorimer  was  charged  with  the  murder  of 
her  husband.  Her  methods,  if  she  had  done  the  deed, 
were  cold-blooded  and  abominable ;  but  she  was  a  young 
and  good-looking  woman,  and  the  public  was  very  anx- 
ious that  she  should  be  acquitted.  The  judge,  Sir  Gil- 
bert Hawkesby,  summed  up  very  strongly  against  her; 
but  the  jury,  after  a  prolonged  absence  from  court,  found 
her  "  not  guilty."  The  paper  published  a  portrait  of 
Mrs.  Lorimer,  at  which  Meldon  glanced.  Suddenly  his 
face  assumed  an  expression  of  great  interest.  He  stud- 
ied the  portrait  carefully,  and  then  looked  at  Miss  King. 
She  sat  at  the  other  end  of  the  carriage,  and  he  saw  her 
face  in  profile  as  she  bent  over  her  papers.  Mrs.  Lori- 
mer's  side  face  was  represented  in  the  picture;  and  she, 
too,  was  bending  over  something.  Meldon  laid  down 
the  paper  and  took  up  another,  this  time  an  Irish  morn- 
ing paper.  It  contained  an  interview  with  Mrs.  Lori- 
mer, secured  by  an  enterprising  reporter  after  the  trial. 
Meldon  read  this,  and  then  turned  to  the  magazine  page 
and  studied  the  picture  of  the  lady  which  appeared  there. 
In  it  Mrs.  Lorimer  wore  a  hat,  and  it  was  again  her  side 
face  which  was  represented.  Meldon  looked  from  it 
to  Miss  King.  The  likeness  was  quite  unmistakable. 
He  took  up  a  third  paper,  a  profusely  illustrated  penny 
daily.  He  found,  as  he  expected,  a  picture  of  Mrs. 
Lorimer.  This  was  a  full-length  portrait,  but  the  face 
came  out  clearly.  Meldon  took  up  the  Irish  paper  again, 
and  re-read  very  carefully  the  interview  with  the  reporter 
on  the  evening  of  the  trial.  Then  he  folded  up  all  three 
papers  and  leaned  over  towards  Miss  King. 

"  You  must  excuse  me,"  he  said,  "  if  I  didn't  recog- 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  13 

nise  you  just  now.  You  put  me  out  by  giving  your 
name  as  Miss  King.  I'm  much  more  familiar  with  your 
other  name.  Everybody  is,  you  know." 

Miss  King  was  mollified  by  the  apology.  She  looked 
up  from  her  papers  and  smiled. 

"  How  did  you  find  me  out  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  By  your  picture  in  the  papers,"  he  said.  "  If  you'll 
allow  me  to  say  so,  it's  a  particularly  good  likeness  and 
well  reproduced.  Of  course,  in  your  case,  they'd  take 
particular  care  not  to  print  the  usual  kind  of  smudge." 

Miss  King  was  strongly  inclined  to  ask  for  the  papers. 
Her  portrait  had,  she  knew,  appeared  in  the  Illustrated 
London  News  and  in  two  literary  journals.  She  did  not 
know  that  it  had  been  reproduced  in  the  daily  press. 
The  news  excited  and  pleased  her  greatly.  She  had  a 
short  struggle  with  herself,  in  which  self-respect  tri- 
umphed. She  did  not  ask  for  the  papers,  but  assumed 
an  air  of  bored  indifference. 

"  They're  always  publishing  my  photograph,"  she  said. 
"  I  can't  imagine  why  they  do  it." 

"  I  quite  understand  now,"  said  Meldon,  "  why  you're 
going  down  to  Ballymoy.  You  couldn't  go  to  a  better 
place  for  privacy  and  quiet;  complete  quiet.  I'm  sure 
you  want  it." 

"Yes,"  said  Miss  King.  "I  feel  that  I  do.  Now 
that  you  know  who  I  am,  you  will  understand.  I  chose 
Ballymoy  because  it  seemed  so  very  remote  from  every- 
where." 

She  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  mention  that  she 
wanted  to  study  the  Irish  character.  Now  that  Meldon 
was  talking  in  an  interesting  way  she  felt  inclined  to 
encourage  him  to  reveal  himself. 

"  Quite  right.    It  is.     I  don't  know  a  remoter  place. 


i4  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

Nobody  will  know  you  there,  and  if  anybody  guesses, 
I'll  make  it  my  business  to  put  them  off  the  scent  at 
once.  But  there'll  be  no  necessity  for  that.  There  isn't 
a  man  in  the  place  will  connect  Miss  King  with  the  other 
lady.  All  the  same,  I  don't  think  I'd  stop  too  long  at 
Doyle's  hotel  if  I  were  you.  Doyle  is  frightfully  curious 
about  people." 

"  I'm  not  stopping  there,"  said  Miss  King.  "  I  have 
taken  a  house." 

"What  house?  I  know  Ballymoy  pretty  well,  and 
there  isn't  a  house  in  it  you  could  take  furnished,  except 
the  place  that  belonged  to  old  Sir  Giles  Buckley." 

"  I've  taken  that  for  two  months,"  said  Miss  King. 

Meldon  whistled  softly.  He  was  surprised.  Bally- 
moy House,  even  if  let  at  a  low  rent,  is  an  expensive 
place  to  live  in. 

"  My  servants  went  down  there  yesterday,"  said  Miss 
King.  She  opened  her  bag  and  groped  among  the  con- 
tents as  she  spoke. 

"  Would  you  be  very  much  shocked  if  I  smoked  a 
cigarette  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  said  Meldon.     "  I  smoke  myself." 

"  I  was  afraid — being  a  clergyman — you  are  a  clergy- 
man, aren't  you?  Some  people  are  so  prejudiced  against 
ladies  smoking." 

"  I'm  not,"  said  Meldon.  "  I'm  remarkably  free  from 
prejudices  of  any  kind.  I  pride  myself  on  being  open- 
minded.  My  wife  doesn't  smoke,  but  that's  merely  be- 
cause she  doesn't  like  it.  If  she  did,  I  shouldn't  make 
the  slightest  objection.  All  the  same,  you  oughtn't  to  go 
puffing  cigarettes  about  the  streets  of  Ballymoy.  The 
Major's  a  bit  old-fashioned  in  some  ways,  and  I  don't 
expect  Doyle  is  accustomed  to  see  ladies  smoking. 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  15 

You'll  have  to  be  very  careful.  If  you  start  people  talk- 
ing they  may  find  out  who  you  are,  and  then  there  will 
certainly  be  unpleasantness." 

"  Would  they  disapprove  of  me  ?  " 

"Almost  sure  to.  We  Irish  have  the  name  of  being 
a  wild  lot,  I  know ;  but — well,  if  you  don't  mind  my  say- 
ing so,  most  of  us  would  be  rather  shy  of  you.  I  don't 
mind  you  myself  in  the  least,  of  course.  I'm  not  that 
kind  of  man.  Still,  your  reputation!  You've  been  a 
good  deal  in  the  papers,  haven't  you  ?  " 

Miss  King,  curiously  enough,  seemed  pleased  at  this 
account  of  her  reputation.  It  is  gratifying  to  a  novelist 
to  be  famous,  and  even  notoriety  is  pleasant.  She  felt 
that,  having  braved  the  censure  of  Lady  Hawkesby,  she 
could  afford  to  despise  the  morality  of  the  people  of 
Ballymoy. 

"The  Major?"  she  said.  "You've  mentioned  him 
once  or  twice.  What  sort  of  man  is  he  ?  Does  my  work 
shock  him  ?  " 

"  I  expect  it  does,"  said  Meldon.  "  I  haven't  seen  him 
for  some  time,  and  so  we  haven't  discussed  you.  But 
from  what  I  know  of  him  I  should  say  that  your  work, 
as  you  call  it,  will  shock  him  frightfully.  You  can't  alto- 
gether blame  him.  He's  a  bachelor,  and  has  very  strict 
ideas  about  a  wife's  duty  to  her  husband." 

Miss  King  was  moved  by  a  desire  to  startle  Meldon. 
She  was  really  engaged  on  quite  an  innocent  novel,  but 
she  chose  to  pretend  that  she  was  going  on  in  her  old 
way. 

"  What  will  he  say,"  she  said,  "  when  he  finds  out  that 
I'm  going  on  with  my  work  under  his  very  eyes,  so  to 
speak,  in  Ballymoy  ?  " 

Meldon  sat  up  suddenly. 


16  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  You  don't  mean  that  ?     Surely  you  can't  intend — " 

"  Now  you're  shocked,"  said  Miss  King,  "  and  you 
said  you  wouldn't  be." 

"  I  am  a  little.  I  didn't  think  I  could  be.  But  I  am. 
I  never  imagined — " 

"  But  that's  exactly  what  I'm  going  to  Ballymoy  for. 
I  want  complete  quiet  in  a  lonely  place  where  I  shan't  be 
disturbed." 

"  Of  course,  it's  no  business  of  mine,"  said  Meldon. 
"  But  don't  you  think  that  perhaps  you've  done  enough  ?  " 

"  No.  I  have  a  great  deal  to  do  yet.  If  it  were  sim- 
ply a  question  of  earning  money — " 

Meldon  looked  at  her.  She  was  very  well  dressed. 
The  bag  which  lay  open  at  her  side  was  fitted  with  silver- 
topped  bottles.  Her  cigarette  case  appeared  to  be  of 
gold.  She  was  travelling  first  class.  She  had  taken 
Ballymoy  House  for  two  months.  He  was  quite  ready 
to  believe  that  she  did  not  want  money. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you're  doing  it  simply  for 
amusement  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  No.  Not  amusement."  Her  voice  dropped  to  a 
kind  of  solemn  whisper.  "  For  the  love  of  my  art." 

Miss  King  took  herself  very  seriously  indeed,  and  was 
accustomed  to  talk  a  good  deal  about  her  art.  Literary 
people  who  might  have  known  better,  and  critics  who 
certainly  did  know  better,  encouraged  her.  They  also 
talked  about  her  art. 

"  Of  course,  if  you  look  at  it  that  way,"  said  Meldon, 
"  there's  no  more  to  be  said ;  but  you  mustn't  expect  me 
to  help  you." 

"You!" 

"  No.  As  a  clergyman  I  can't  possibly  do  it.  Nor  will 
the  Major,  unless  he's  greatly  changed.  I  don't  expect 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  17 

Doyle  will  either.  He's  president  of  the  local  branch  of 
the  League,  but  I'm  sure  he  draws  the  line  at — " 

"  But  I  don't  want  any  of  you  to  help  me.  Why 
should  I?" 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  that,  at  all  events,"  said  Meldon. 
"  For,  unless  under  very  exceptional  circumstances,  I 
couldn't  conscientiously  assist  you  in  any  way." 

"  You  said  just  now,"  said  Miss  King,  "  that  you  had 
no  prejudices,  and  that  nothing  shocked  you." 

"  Very  few  things  do,"  said  Meldon.  "  In  fact  I  can't 
recollect  ever  having  been  shocked  before ;  but  this  idea 
is  a  little  new  to  me.  I  candidly  confess  that  I  never — 
hullo!  We're  slowing  down  into  a  station.  Now  I  ex- 
pect there'll  be  trouble  about  my  ticket." 

There  was — considerable  trouble.  But  Meldon 
emerged  from  it  victoriously.  He  flatly  refused  to  move 
from  the  carriage  in  which  he  sat.  The  guard,  the  sta- 
tion-master, a  ticket-collector,  and  four  porters  gathered 
round  the  door  and  argued  with  him.  Meldon  argued 
fluently  with  them.  In  the  end  they  took  his  name  and 
address,  threatening  him  with  prosecution.  Then,  be- 
cause the  train  was  a  mail  train  and  obliged  to  go  on, 
the  guard  blew  his  whistle  and  Meldon  was  left  in  peace. 


CHAPTER  III 

MELDON  stretched  himself  in  a  deep  chair  and 
lit  his  pipe.  He  had  dined  to  his  own  satisfac- 
tion, eating  with  an  appetite  whetted  by  the  long  drive 
from  the  railway  station.  He  had  before  him  a  clear 
fortnight's  holiday,  and  intended  to  enjoy  it  to  the  full. 
Major  Kent's  house  was  comfortable ;  his  tobacco,  which 
Meldon  smoked,  was  good;  his  yacht,  the  Spindrift,  lay 
ready  for  a  cruise. 

"  To-morrow,"  he  said,  "  I  shall  stroll  round  and  see 
my  old  friends.  I'm  bound  to  do  that ;  and,  in  point  of 
fact,  I  want  to.  It's  three  years  since  I  left,  and  I'm 
longing  for  a  look  at  Doyle  and  the  rest  of  them.  The 
next  day,  if  the  weather  is  any  way  moderate,  we  can  go 
sailing.  I  suppose  Ballymoy  isn't  much  changed.  I 
shall  find  everyone  exactly  as  I  left  them.  Things  don't 
alter  much  in  places  like  this  where  you  take  life  easy." 

"  The  place  is  changed,"  said  Major  Kent ;  "  changed 
for  the  worse.  You'd  hardly  know  it." 

"  Nothing  has  happened  to  Doyle,  I  hope.  I'd  be  sorry 
if  poor  Doyle  had  taken  to  drink,  or  gone  bankrupt,  or 
got  married,  or  anything  of  that  sort.  I  always  liked 
Doyle." 

"  Doyle,"  said  the  Major  sadly,  "  is  suffering  like 
everybody  else." 

18 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  19 

"New  priest?" 

"  No.     Father  Morony's  alive  still." 

"  They're  not  piling  on  the  rates  under  the  pretence 
of  getting  a  water  supply,  or  running  schemes  of  tech- 
nical education,  or  giving  scholarships  in  the  new  uni- 
versity, are  they?  Doyle  would  have  more  sense  than 
to  allow  them  to  break  out  into  any  reckless  waste  of 
public  money." 

"  No." 

"  Then  what's  the  matter  with  you  ?  I've  noticed  that 
you're  looking  pretty  glum  ever  since  I  arrived.  Let's 
have  the  trouble,  whatever  it  is.  I  have  a  fortnight  be- 
fore me,  and  I  need  scarcely  say,  Major,  that  if  I  can 
set  things  right  in  the  place,  I  don't  mind  sacrificing  my 
holiday  in  the  least.  I'm  quite  prepared  to  turn  to  and 
straighten  out  any  tangle  that  may  have  arisen  since  I 
left." 

"  I'm  sure  you'd  do  your  best,  J.  J."  The  Major 
dropped  naturally  into  his  old  way  of  addressing  his 
friend  by  his  initials,  "  But  I  don't  think  you  can  help 
us  this  time." 

Major  Kent  sighed  heavily  and  struck  a  match.  His 
pipe  had  gone  out. 

"  I  certainly  can't,"  said  Meldon,  "  if  you  won't  tell 
me  what  it  is  that  troubles  you." 

"  It's  that  damned  Simpkins,"  said  the  Major. 

"  Simpkins  may  or  may  not  be  damned  hereafter,"  said 
Meldon.  "  I  offer  no  opinion  on  that  point  until  I  hear 
who  he  is  and  what  he's  done.  He  can't  be  damned  yet, 
assuming  him  to  be  still  alive.  That's  an  elementary 
theological  truth  which  you  ought  to  know ;  and,  in  fact, 
must  know.  It  will  be  a  great  deal  more  satisfactory  to 
me  if  you  use  language  accurately.  Say  that  '  damnable 


20  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

Simpkins '  if  you're  quite  sure  he  deserves  it;  but  don't 
call  him  damned  until  he  is." 

"  He  does  deserve  it." 

"If  he  does,"  said  Meldon — "  I'm  not,  of  course,  cer- 
tain yet  that  he  does;  but  if  he  does,  I'll  do  my  best  to 
see  that  he  gets  it ;  but  I  won't  act  in  the  dark.  I  have  a 
sense  of  justice  and  a  conscience,  and  I  absolutely  decline 
to  persecute  and  harry  a  man  simply  because  you  don't 
like  him.  Who  is  this  Simpkins?  Is  he  any  kind  of 
government  inspector  ?  " 

"  He's  an  agent  that  they've  sent  down  here  to  man- 
age the  Buckley  estates." 

"  Well,  I  don't  see  anything  wrong  about  that.  I  sup- 
pose there  must  be  an  agent.  I  could  understand  Doyle 
objecting  to  him  on  the  ground  of  his  profession.  Doyle 
is  the  President  of  the  League,  and,  of  course,  he's  ex 
officio  obliged  to  dislike  land  agents  passionately;  but  I 
didn't  expect  you  to  take  that  line,  Major.  You're  a  loy- 
alist. At  least  you  used  to  be  when  I  was  here,  and 
it's  just  as  plainly  your  duty  to  support  agents  as  it  is 
Doyle's  to  abuse  them." 

"  I  don't  object  to  him  because  he's  an  agent,"  said 
Major  Kent.  "  I  object  to  him  because  he's  a  meddle- 
some ass,  and  keeps  the  whole  place  in  continual  hot 
water." 

"  Very  well.  That's  a  distinct  and  definite  charge. 
If  you  can  prove  it,  I'll  take  the  matter  up  and  deal  with 
the  man.  Pass  the  tobacco." 

Meldon  filled  and  lit  his  pipe.  Then  he  got  up  and 
walked  across  to  Major  Kent's  writing-table.  He  chose 
out  a  pen,  took  a  quantity  of  notepaper  and  a  bottle  of 
ink.  With  them  he  returned  to  his  armchair  and  sat 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  21 

down.  He  put  the  ink-bottle  on  the  arm  of  the  chair 
and,  crossing  his  legs,  propped  the  paper  on  his  knee. 

"  Do  be  careful,  J.  J.,"  said  the  Major.  "  You'll  cer- 
tainly upset  that  ink-bottle,  and  this  is  a  new  carpet." 

"We  are  engaged  now,"  said  Meldon,  "on  a  serious 
investigation.  You  have  demanded  that  a  certain  man 
should  be  punished  in  a  perfectly  frightful  manner.  I've 
agreed  to  carry  out  your  wishes,  if — mark  my  words — if 
he  deserves  it.  You  ought  not  to  be  thinking  of  carpets 
or  ink-bottles.  Your  mind  ought  to  be  concentrated  on 
a  single  effort  to  tell  the  truth.  It's  not  such  an  easy 
thing  to  tell  the  truth  as  you  think.  Lots  of  men  try  to 
and  fail.  In  fact,  I'm  not  sure  that  any  man  could  tell 
the  truth  unless  he's  had  some  training  in  metaphysics 
and  theology.  When  I  was  in  college  I  took  honours  in 
logic—" 

"  You've  often  mentioned  that  to  me  before,"  said  the 
Major.  "  It's  one  of  the  things  about  you  that  I  have 
most  firmly  fixed  in  my  mind." 

"  And  I  won  a  prize  for  proving  the  accuracy  of  the 
Thirty-nine  Articles.  Consequently,  I  may  say,  without 
boasting,  that  I'm  more  or  less  of  an  expert  in  the  mat- 
ter of  truth.  My  mind  is  trained.  Yours,  of  course, 
isn't.  That's  why  I'm  trying  to  help  you  to  tell  the  truth. 
But  I  won't — in  fact,  I  can't — go  on  helping  you  if  you 
wander  off  on  to  side  issues  about  ink-bottles  and  car- 
pets." 

He  waved  his  hand  oratorically  as  he  spoke,  and  tipped 
the  ink-bottle  off  the  arm  of  the  chair. 

"  There,"  said  the  Major,  "  I  knew  you'd  do  that." 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Meldon.  "  I  have  a  pencil  in  my 
pocket.  I'll  work  with  it." 


22  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

The  Major  seized  the  blotting-paper  from  his  writing- 
table  and  went  down  on  his  knees  on  the  carpet. 

"  When  you've  finished  making  that  mess  worse  than 
it  is,"  said  Meldon,  "  and  covering  your  own  fingers  all 
over  with  ink  in  such  a  way  that  it  will  take  days  of 
careful  rubbing  with  pumice-stone  to  get  them  clean,  per- 
haps you'll  go  on  telling  me  why  you  call  this  fellow 
Simpkins  a  meddlesome  ass.  I  was  up  early  this  morn- 
ing, owing  to  the  baby's  being  restless  during  the  night. 
Did  I  mention  to  you  that  she's  got  whooping-cough? 
Well,  she  has,  and  it  takes  her  in  the  form  of  a  rapid 
succession  of  fits,  beginning  at  10  p.m.  and  lasting  till 
eight  the  next  morning.  That  was  what  happened  last 
night,  so,  as  you'll  readily  understand,  I  want  to  get  to 
bed  in  good  time  to-night.  It  may,  it  probably  will,  take 
hours  to  drag  your  grievance  out  of  you,  and  I  don't  see 
any  use  in  wasting  time  at  the  start." 

"  I  paid  twenty  guineas  for  that  carpet,"  said  the  Ma- 
jor. "  It's  a  Persian  one." 

"  Has  that  anything  to  do  with  Simpkins  ?  Did  he 
force  you  to  buy  the  carpet,  or  did  he  try  to  prevent 
you?" 

"  No,  he  didn't.  I  wouldn't  let  the  beast  inside  this 
house." 

"  Very  well  then.  Don't  go  on  about  the  carpet.  Tell 
me  plainly  and  straightforwardly  why  you  call  Simpkins 
a  meddlesome  ass." 

"  Because  he  pokes  his  nose  into  everybody's  busi- 
ness," said  the  Major,  "  and  won't  let  people  alone." 

Meldon  took  a  note  on  a  sheet  of  paper. 

"  Good,"  he  said.  "  Simpkins — meddlesome  ass — 
pokes  his  nose  into  everybody's  business.  Now,  who  is 
everybody  ?  " 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  23 

"Who  is  what,  J.  J.?" 

"  Who  is  everybody  ?  That's  plain  enough,  isn't  it  ? 
For  instance,  are  you  everybody  ?  " 

"  No,  I'm  not.     How  could  I  be?  " 

"  Then  I  take  it  that  Simpkins  has  not  poked  his  nose 
into  your  business.  Is  Doyle  everybody  ?  " 

"  He  has  poked  his  nose  into  my  business." 

"  Be  careful  now,  Major.  You're  beginning  to  contra- 
dict yourself.  What  business  of  yours  has  he  poked  his 
nose  into  ?  Was  it  the  carpet  ?  " 

"  No.  I  told  you  he  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  car- 
pet. He  made  a  beastly  fuss  about  my  fishing  in  the 
river  above  the  bridge.  He  threatened  to  prosecute  me." 

"  He  may  have  been  perfectly  justified  in  that,"  said 
Meldon.  "  What  right  have  you  to  fish  in  the  upper 
part  of  the  river?" 

"  I  always  fished  there.  I've  fished  there  for  thirty 
years  and  more." 

"  These  questions  of  fishing  rights,"  said  Meldon,  "  are 
often  extremely  complicated.  There  may  very  well  be 
something  to  be  said  on  both  sides.  I  don't  think  I  can 
proceed  to  deal  with  Simpkins  in  the  way  you  suggest, 
unless  he  has  done  something  worse  than  interfere  with 
your  fishing.  What  else  have  you  got  against  him  ?  " 

"  He  tried  to  stir  up  the  dispensary  doctor  to  prosecute 
Doyle  on  account  of  the  insanitary  condition  of  some  of 
his  houses." 

"  I  expect  he  was  perfectly  right  there,"  said  Meldon. 
"  From  what  I  recollect  of  those  houses  that  Doyle  lets 
I  should  say  that  he  richly  deserves  prosecution." 

"  Nobody  was  ever  ill  in  the  houses,"  said  the  Major. 
"  There  hasn't  been  a  case  of  typhoid  in  the  town  as  long 
as  I  can  remember." 


24  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  That's  not  the  point,"  said  Meldon.  "  You're  look- 
ing at  the  matter  in  the  wrong  way  altogether.  There 
never  is  typhoid  anywhere  until  you  begin  to  be  sanitary. 
The  absence  of  typhoid  simply  goes  to  show  that  sani- 
tation has  been  entirely  neglected.  That's  probably  one 
of  Simpkins'  strongest  points." 

"  If  that's  so,  we'd  be  better  without  sanitation." 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Meldon.  "  You  might  just  as 
well  say  that  we'd  be  better  without  matches  because 
children  never  died  of  eating  the  heads  off  them  before 
they  were  invented.  Which  reminds  me  that  I  caught 
the  baby  in  the  act  of  trying  to  swallow  a  black-headed 
pin  the  other  day ;  and  that,  of  course,  would  have  been 
a  great  deal  worse  than  getting  whooping-cough.  The 
thing  had  been  stuck  into  the  head  of  a  woolly  bear  by 
way  of  an  eye.  She  pulled  it  out,  which  I  think  shows 
intelligence,  and — " 

"  I  thought  you  said,  J.  J.,  that  you  wanted  to  get 
through  with  this  enquiry  and  go  to  bed." 

"  I  do,"  said  Meldon.  "  But  I  naturally  expected 
you'd  take  some  interest  in  the  mental  development  of 
my  baby.  After  all,  she's  your  godchild.  You  wouldn't 
have  liked  it  if  she'd  swallowed  that  pin.  However,  if 
you  don't  care  to  hear  about  her,  I  won't  force  her  on 
your  attention.  Go  on  about  Doyle  and  the  drains. 
What  happened  ?  " 

"  The  doctor  refused  to  act,  of  course,"  said  the  Ma- 
jor. 

"Naturally,"  said  Meldon;  "he  didn't  care  about 
bringing  typhoid  into  the  town." 

"  You'd  have  thought  Simpkins  would  have  dropped 
it  then,  but  he  didn't.  He  reported  the  doctor  to  the 
Board  of  Guardians  for  neglect  of  duty." 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  25 

"  We're  getting  on,"  said  Meldon,  taking  a  note  on 
a  fresh  sheet  of  paper.  "  You  started  out  to  prove  that 
Simpkins  is  a  meddlesome  ass.  You've  got  half  way. 
He's  certainly  an  ass.  Didn't  he  know  that  Doyle  was 
chairman  of  the  Board  of  Guardians  ?  " 

"  He  must  have  known  that,  of  course." 

"  Then  he's  an  ass.  No  one  who  wasn't  an  ass  could 
possibly  expect  Doyle  to  pass  a  vote  of  censure  on  the 
doctor  for  not  prosecuting  him  about  his  drains.  You 
needn't  elaborate  that  point  further.  I  admit  it.  But  I 
don't  see  yet  that  you've  proved  any  actual  malice.  Lots 
of  quite  good  men  are  asses,  and  mean  to  do  what's  right. 
Simpkins  may  have  been  acting  from  a  mistaken  sense 
of  duty." 

"  He  wasn't.  He  was  acting  from  a  fiendish  delight 
in  worrying  peaceable  people." 

"  Prove  that,"  said  Meldon,  "  and  I'll  make  the  man 
sorry  for  himself.  There's  no  crime  I  know  more  de- 
testable than  nagging  and  worrying  with  the  intention  of 
making  other  people  uncomfortable.  In  a  properly  civil- 
ised society  men  who  do  that  would  be  hanged." 

"  I  wish  Simpkins  was  hanged." 

"  Prove  your  point,"  said  Meldon,  "  and  I'll  see  that 
he  is  hanged,  or  at  all  events  killed  in  some  other  way." 

"  There's  no  use  talking  that  way,  J.  J.  You  can't  go 
out  and  murder  the  man." 

"  It  won't  be  murder  in  this  case,"  said  Meldon.  "  It 
will  be  a  perfectly  just  execution,  and  I  shan't  do  it 
myself.  I'm  a  clergyman,  and  not  an  executioner.  But 
I'll  see  that  it's  done  once  I'm  perfectly  satisfied  that  he 
deserves  it." 

"  He  had  a  row  with  the  rector  at  a  vestry  meeting," 
said  the  Major,  "  about  the  heating  of  the  church." 


26  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  That  settles  it,"  said  Meldon.  "  I  ask  for  nothing 
more.  The  man  who's  capable  of  annoying  the  poor  old 
rector,  who  has  chronic  bronchitis  and  must  keep  the 
church  up  to  a  pretty  fair  temperature — " 

"  What  Simpkins  said  was  that  the  church  wasn't  hot 
enough." 

"  It's  all  the  same,"  said  Meldon.  "  The  point  is  that 
he  worried  the  rector,  who's  not  physically  strong  enough 
to  bear  it,  and  who  certainly  does  not  deserve  it.  I  didn't 
mind  his  attacking  you  or  Doyle.  You  can  both  hit 
back,  and  if  you  were  any  good  would  have  hit  back 
long  ago  in  a  way  which  Simpkins  would  have  disliked 
intensely.  But  a  clergyman  is  different.  He  can't  de- 
fend himself.  He  is  obliged,  by  the  mere  fact  of  being 
a  clergyman,  to  sit  down  under  every  species  of  insult 
which  any  ill-conditioned  corner-boy  chooses  to  sling  at 
him.  There  was  a  fellow  in  my  parish,  when  I  first 
went  there,  who  thought  he'd  be  perfectly  safe  in  ragging 
me  because  he  knew  I  was  a  parson.  No  later  than  this 
morning  a  horrid  rabble  of  railway  porters,  and  people 
of  that  sort,  tried  to  bully  me,  because,  owing  to  their 
own  ridiculous  officiousness,  I  was  forced  to  travel  first 
class  on  a  third-class  ticket.  They  thought  they  could 
do  what  they  liked  with  impunity  when  they  saw  I  was 
a  clergyman.  You  don't  know  how  common  that  kind 
of  anti-clerical  spirit  is.  Simpkins  is  evidently  swelled 
out  with  it.  It's  going  now,  like  an  epidemic.  Look  at 
France  and  Italy.  The  one  chance  we  have  of  keeping 
Ireland  free  from  it  is  to  isolate  each  case  the  moment 
it  appears.  By  far  the  wisest  thing  we  can  do  is  to  have 
Simpkins  killed  at  once." 

"  I  don't  quite  see  how  you  are  going  to  manage  it, 
J.  J.,  without  being  hanged  yourself." 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  27 

"  Is  he  a  married  man  ?  " 

"  No,  he  isn't." 

"  Then  the  matter's  perfectly  simple.  I  don't  think  I 
mentioned  to  you,  Major,  that  I  travelled  down  in  the 
train  to-day  with  a  professional  murderess." 

"  Do  try  to  talk  sense,  J.  J." 

"  Her  speciality  is  husbands,"  said  Meldon.  "  I  don't 
know  exactly  how  many  she  has  done  for  in  her  time, 
but  there  must  be  several.  She  said  their  ghosts  haunted 
her  at  night,  and  that  sometimes  she  couldn't  sleep  on 
account  of  them." 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Major  Kent,  "  that  it  amuses  you  to 
babble  like  an  idiot  in  an  asylum." 

"  It  doesn't  amuse  me  in  the  least.  I  feel  desperately 
depressed  when  I  think  of  those  poor  fellows  lying  in 
their  graves  with  ounces  and  ounces  of  strychnine  in  their 
stomachs.  That's  not  the  kind  of  thing  I  consider  amus- 
ing, though  you  may.  Miss  King  doesn't  consider  it 
amusing  either.  She  said  she  often  cries  when  she  thinks 
of  her  victims,  and  very  often  she  can't  sleep  at  night." 

"  Miss  King!  "  said  the  Major.  "  That's  the  name  of 
the  lady  who  has  taken  Ballymoy  House  for  the  sum- 
mer." 

"  Exactly.  The  lady  whom  I  propose  to  marry  to 
your  friend  Simpkins." 

"  Good  Lord !  J.  J.  WHy  ?  What  has  the  poor  woman 
done?" 

"  It's  not  so  much  what  she  has  done,"  said  Meldon, 
"that  makes  me  think  she'd  be  a  suitable  match  for 
Simpkins.  It's  what  she  will  do.  She'll  murder  him." 

"  Nonsense." 

"It's  not  nonsense.  She  will.  She  told  me  herself 
that  she  has;  come  to  Ballymoy  for  the  express  purpose 


28  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

of  murdering  another  husband.  She  said  she  wanted 
quiet  and  security  from  interruption  in  order  to  go  on 
with  her  work." 

"  You're  going  mad,  J.  J. ;  stark  mad.  I'm  sorry  for 
you." 

"  I  got  into  the  carriage  with  her  this  morning  by  the 
merest  accident,"  said  Meldon.  "  If  the  baby  hadn't  got 
whooping-cough  a  fortnight  ago,  and  kept  me  awake  all 
night,  I  shouldn't  have  caught  the  early  train.  I  didn't 
mean  to  catch  it.  Directly  I  looked  at  her  I  saw  that 
she  was  a  remarkable  woman.  You've  not  seen  her 
yet?" 

"  No,"  said  the  Major,  "  I  haven't,  and  I  don't  partic- 
ularly want  to." 

"  Her  face  seemed  more  or  less  familiar  to  me,"  said 
Meldon.  "  You'll  recognise  it,  too,  when  you  see  it.  Or 
more  probably  you  won't.  I  suppose  you  still  read  noth- 
ing but  The  Times,  and  it  doesn't  publish  the  portraits  of 
celebrities." 

"  Is  Miss  King  a  celebrity?    I  never  heard  of  her." 

"  Not  under  that  name ;  but  when  I  mention  that  her 
real  name  is  Mrs.  Lorimer,  you'll  remember  all  about 
her." 

"  The  woman  who  was  tried  the  other  day  for  mur- 
dering her  husband,  and  got  off." 

"  Precisely,"  said  Meldon.  "  I  happened,  by  the  merest 
chance,  to  have  five  portraits  of  her  in  three  different 
papers.  I  compared  them  carefully  with  Miss  King, 
and  I  haven't  the  slightest  doubt  that  she's  the  same 
woman." 

"  You're  probably  quite  mistaken,"  said  the  Major. 
"  Those  pictures  in  the  daily  papers  are  never  the  least 
like  the  person  they're  supposed  to  represent." 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  29 

"  I  might  have  been  mistaken,  though  I  very  seldom 
am;  but  in  this  case  I  certainly  was  not.  She  seemed 
quite  pleased  when  I  said  I  recognised  her,  and  told  me 
frankly  that  she  had  murdered  several  husbands,  and 
hoped  to  live  to  murder  many  more.  I  urged  her  to 
give  it  up.  Being  a  clergyman  I  was  bound  to  do  that. 
But  it  wasn't  the  least  use.  She  said  it  was  her  art ;  and 
you  know,  Major,  when  people  start  talking  about  art, 
it  simply  means  that  they  are  dead  to  all  sense  of  morality. 
It  doesn't  in  the  least  matter  what  the  art  is.  The  effect 
is  always  the  same.  That's  the  reason  I've  made  up  my 
mind  not  to  allow  my  daughter  to  learn  drawing.  I 
won't  have  her  moral  sense  blunted  while  she's  young. 
I  don't  deny  that  pictures  and  books  and  music  are  great 
things  in  their  way,  but  a  simple  sense  of  right  and 
wrong,  of  truth  and  falsehood,  are  much  more  important. 
I'm  sure  you  agree  with  me  in  that." 

"  I  wish  to  goodness  you  had  some  sense  of  right  and 
wrong  yourself." 

"  I  have,"  said  Meldon.  "  If  I  hadn't  I  should  simply 
enjoy  myself  during  this  holiday,  as  I'm  quite  entitled  to 
do.  Instead  of  which  I  mean  to  devote  my  time  to  the 
troublesome  task  of  marrying  Simpkins,  whom  I  don't 
know  at  all,  to  a  lady  whom  I  have  only  seen  once.  If 
I  hadn't  a  remarkably  pushing  sort  of  a  conscience  I 
wouldn't  sacrifice  myself  in  that  way." 

"  She  won't  marry  Simpkins,"  said  the  Major. 

"Oh,  yes,  she  will.  I  don't  anticipate  any  difficulty 
about  that  part  of  the  programme." 

"  Wait  till  you've  seen  Simpkins.  Wait  till  you've 
talked  to  him.  No  woman  would  marry  Simpkins." 

"  Miss  King  will,"  said  Meldon.  "  She  wants  a  man 
on  whom  to  practise  her  art,  and  she'll  be  all  the  better 


30  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

pleased  if  he's  a  particularly  undesirable  kind  of  beast. 
She  won't  find  herself  regretting  him  afterwards.  Now 
that  we  have  that  settled,  Major,  I  think  I'll  dodge  off 
to  bed." 


CHAPTER  IV 

MAJOR  KENT,  like  most  men  who  lead  an  open- 
air  life,  had  a  healthy  appetite  at  breakfast  time. 
His  table  was  always  well  supplied  with  eggs,  bacon,  and 
when  possible,  fish.  In  honour  of  Meldon's  visit  he  had 
a  cold  ham  on  the  sideboard,  and  a  large  dish  of  oatmeal 
porridge.  He  was  a  man  of  primitive  hospitality,  and  he 
surveyed  the  feast  with  an  air  of  proud  satisfaction  while 
he  waited  for  his  guest.  He  had  to  wait  for  a  quarter 
of  an  hour,  and  his  glow  of  pleasure  was  beginning  to 
give  way  to  a  feeling  of  irritation  when  Meldon  burst 
into  the  room. 

"  This  place,"  he  said,  by  way  of  apology  for  his  un- 
punctuality,  "  is  certainly  the  sleepiest  in  the  world.  I 
had  forgotten  how  sleepy  it  is.  I  didn't  so  much  as  turn 
round  in  bed  for  nine  solid  hours,  and  I  assure  you  I 
never  felt  less  inclined  to  get  up  in  my  life.  I  daresay 
I'll  get  over  it  in  a  day  or  two ;  but  just  at  present  I  feel 
that  the  night  wasn't  long  enough." 

"  Have  some  breakfast,"  said  the  Major,  "  and  then 
you  can  go  to  sleep  again." 

Meldon  helped  himself  to  porridge  and  milk. 

"  No,  I  can't,"  he  said,  "  I've  too  much  to  do." 

He  worked  through  a  helping  of  bacon  and  eggs. 
Then  he  attacked  the  cold  ham. 

3i 


32  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"There's  nothing,"  he  said,  "like  a  good  breakfast 
when  you  have  a  hard  day's  work  before  you.  I  expect 
to  be  pretty  busy,  and  I'll  hardly  be  in  for  lunch.  I  sup- 
pose you've  no  objection  to  my  making  myself  a  few 
sandwiches  before  I  start?  I  may  pick  up  a  meal  some- 
where in  the  course  of  the  day,  but  I  may  not.  It's 
always  well  to  be  on  the  safe  side." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  I'm  going  to  marry  Simpkins  to  Miss  King,  of  course. 
I  thought  we  settled  that  last  night." 

"Don't  keep  up  that  joke,  J.  J.  It  was  all  very  well 
pulling  my  leg  last  night,  and  I  didn't  mind  it  a  bit ;  but 
a  thing  like  that  gets  to  be  stale  the  next  morning." 

"  There's  no  joke  that  I  can  see,"  said  Meldon.  "  If 
you  read  the  papers  with  any  sort  of  attention  lately, 
you'd  understand  that  Mrs.  Lorimer  is  the  last  woman 
in  the  world  who  can  be  regarded  as  comic." 

"  We  weren't  talking  about  Mrs.  Lorimer." 

"  Yes,  we  were.  We  were  talking  about  Miss  King, 
and  she  is  Mrs.  Lorimer ;  although  at  present  she  prefers 
to  be  called  Miss  King.  I  think  she's  quite  right.  It 
would  be  extremely  bad  taste  to  go  on  using  poor  Lori- 
mer's  name  after  what  she  did  to  him.  He  wouldn't 
like  it.  You  wouldn't  like  it  yourself,  Major,  if  she'd 
killed  you." 

"  I  don't  know  that  she  did  kill  him,"  said  the  Major. 
"  Even  supposing  that  you're  right  in  identifying  the  two 
women — which  of  course  you're  not — you'd  still  have  no 
earthly  right  to  assume  that  Mrs.  Lorimer  is  a  murderess. 
The  jury  found  her  innocent." 

"Of  course  it  did.  Any  jury  would.  She's  a  most 
attractive-looking  woman.  You'd  have  found  her  inno- 
cent yourself  if  you'd  been  on  that  jury." 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  33 

"  I  would  not." 

"  Yes,  you  would.  I've  seen  her,  remember.  You 
haven't,  so  you  can't  possibly  tell  what  you'd  have  done." 

"  I  don't  see,"  said  the  Major,  "  that  her  being  good- 
looking  proves  that  she  murdered  her  husband." 

"  No,  it  doesn't,  but  it  accounts  for  the  jury  letting 
her  off.  The  evidence  was  amply  sufficient  for  a  con- 
viction, and  the  judge  summed  up  dead  against  her.  And 
any  way  it  doesn't  matter  to  us  about  the  evidence,  for 
she  owned  up  to  me  in  the  train.  I  told  her  I'd  keep 
her  secret  for  her,  and  I  don't  intend  to  tell  anybody 
except  you.  Apart  from  her  feelings  altogether  it 
wouldn't  suit  us  for  the  story  to  get  out  in  Ballymoy. 
Simpkins  would  be  choked  off  at  once  if  he  knew  it. 
Men  have  such  a  ridiculous  prejudice  against  marrying  a 
woman  with  any  sort  of  past." 

"  I  don't  think  Simpkins  would  mind,"  said  the  Ma- 
jor, "  if  he  thought  she  had  any  money.  That's  the  kind 
of  beast  he  is." 

"  She  has  plenty,"  said  Meldon ;  "  Lorimer's,  I  daresay. 
At  least  she  looks  as  if  she  had  plenty,  and  that's  the 
same  thing  in  this  case.  If  Simpkins  marries  her,  it's" 
extremely  unlikely  that  he'll  live  long  enough  to  find  out 
whether  she  really  has  a  large  fortune,  or  is  simply  spend- 
ing her  capital." 

After  breakfast  Major  Kent  returned  to  the  subject 
of  Miss  King. 

"  I  suppose,"  he  said,  "  that  you're  absolutely  certain 
that  you've  got  a  hold  of  the  right  woman  ?  You  couldn't 
be  making  any  sort  of  mistake  ?  " 

"  I  told  you  last  night  that  I  was  certain,  and  I  gave 
you  my  reasons;  pretty  convincing  ones  I  imagine — the 
sort  of  reasons  that  would  be  conclusive  to  any  man  at 


34  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

all  accustomed  to  criminal  investigation.  I  don't  myself 
see  how  you  can  get  behind  the  portrait  and  the  lady's 
own  confession." 

"You  couldn't  possibly  have  mistaken  about  that, 
could  you?  I  mean  she  couldn't  have  been  confessing 
anything  else  which  you  could  have  taken  up  to  mean 
murder  ?  " 

"  No,  she  couldn't.  In  the  first  place,  it  isn't  at  all 
likely  that  there  would  be  two  attractive-looking  lady 
criminals  travelling  about  in  trains  at  the  same  time,  both 
wanting  to  confess  what  they  had  done.  In  the  second 
place,  her  crime  must  have  been  pretty  serious,  for  she 
was  particularly  anxious  to  find  out  whether  it  was  likely 
to  shock  you." 

"Me?" 

"  Yes,  you.  She  mentioned  you  by  name,  and  asked 
particularly  whether  you'd  be  likely  to  be  shocked,  when 
you  found  out  who  she  was.  Now,  if  she  had  simply 
been  slipping  trifling  articles  off  shop  counters  into  her 
muff,  she  wouldn't  have  expected  you  to  be  shocked. 
That's  what  makes  me  say  her  crime  was  a  serious  one." 

"  Still,"  said  the  Major,  "  even  supposing  she  really  was 
afraid  of  shocking  me ;  though  I  can't  see  how  she  came 
to  consider  me  at  all — " 

"  She  did.    You  may  take  that  for  certain." 

"  There  are  other  things  besides  murder  that  I  should 
strongly  disapprove  of." 

"  You're  thinking  of  divorce  court  proceedings  now. 
But  she's  not  that  sort  of  woman  at  all.  I  had  every  op- 
portunity of  studying  her  character  in  the  train,  and  I'm 
certain  that  she  wouldn't  mix  herself  up  with  anything 
of  a  disreputable  kind.  Whatever  poor  Lorimer  may 
have  had  to  complain  of — and  I  don't  in  the  least  deny 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  35 

that  he  had  a  grievance — he'd  have  been  the  last  man  to 
accuse  her  of  anything  of  that  sort.  I  never  met  a 
woman  who  impressed  me  more  strongly  as  being  thor- 
oughly respectable." 

"  Come  now,  J.  J.    Murder !     Surely  murder — " 

"  Not  when  treated  as  an  art.  De  Quincey  wrote  an 
essay  on  the  subject.  If  you'd  read  it,  you'd  know  better 
than  to  mix  up  artistic  murder  with  the  commonplace 
assassinations  of  the  ordinary  burglar.  You  might  just 
as  well  say  that  Beethoven  is  the  same  sort  of  person  as 
the  Italian  organ-grinder  who  plays  abominable  tunes  un- 
der your  window,  in  the  hope  of  your  giving  him  two- 
pence to  go  away." 

"  Nothing  you've  said  so  far,"  said  the  Major,  "  con- 
vinces me  in  the  least  that  your  identification  of  the  lady 
is  certain,  or  even  likely  to  be  right." 

"  I  knew  you'd  be  sceptical.  You  always  are  sceptical 
about  anything  the  least  out  of  the  common ;  so  while  I 
was  shaving  this  morning  I  arranged  the  evidence  in  such 
a  way  that  you  can't  possibly  escape  from  it.  In  the  first 
place,  there  are  the  portraits.  I  don't  dwell  on  them  be- 
cause you  haven't  seen  Miss  King,  and  so  they  won't — 
for  the  present — carry  much  weight  with  you.  In  the 
second  place,  there  is  her  confession.  You  choose  to 
consider  that  I  was  mistaken  about  that,  and  that  Miss 
King  was  really  confessing  something  of  quite  a  different 
kind.  I  say  nothing  about  the  improbability  of  my  being 
mistaken  in  a  perfectly  simple  matter.  I  simply  leave  the 
confession  on  one  side,  and  offer  you  corroborative  evi- 
dence of  a  quite  unmistakable  description.  Here's  a  copy 
of  a  Dublin  paper.  I  put  it  in  my  pocket  on  purpose  to 
show  it  to  you.  I  suppose  you'll  believe  what  you  see 
printed  in  a  newspaper  ?  " 


36  THE  SIMPKI'NS  PLOT 

"  It  depends  very  much  what  it  is.  I  don't  believe 
everything  I  see  in  papers." 

"  That,  if  you'll  excuse  my  saying  so,  seems  to  me  to 
be  carrying  your  habit  of  scepticism  to  the  verge  of 
actual  mania.  I  don't  think  you  ought  to  adopt  that  kind 
of  attitude,  Major.  If  you  had  been  trained  in  theology, 
or  even  secular  metaphysics,  it  might  be  excusable; 
though  then,  of  course,  you  wouldn't  do  it.  But  in  a 
simple  and  almost  entirely  uneducated  country  gentle- 
man like  you,  it's  simply  grotesque." 

"  Go  on  about  the  newspaper,  J.  J." 

"  Here  it  is  for  you ;  but  I  don't  see  that  it's  much  use 
giving  it  to  you  if  your  mind  is  made  up  beforehand  to 
disbelieve  every  word  that's  in  it." 

He  took  a  newspaper  from  his  pocket  and  handed  it 
to  Major  Kent,  indicating  with  his  thumb  a  column  on 
the  middle  page. 

"  The  Lorimer  Case.  Judge's  Charge  to  the  Jury. 
Acquittal. 

"  Scene  outside  the  Court.  Enthusiasm  of  the  Crowd. 
A  Demonstration." 

The  Major  read  aloud  the  heavily-leaded  lines  which 
filled  half  the  column. 

"  Skip  that  part,"  said  Meldon.  "  The  cheers  don't 
matter  to  us,  though  I  daresay  Miss  King  enjoyed  them 
at  the  time.  Go  on  to  the  bottom  of  the  next  column 
where  you  see  the  words  *  An  Interview '  in  large 
print." 

"  Our  representative,"  read  the  Major,  "  called  this 
evening  at  Mrs.  Lorimer's  hotel.  He  was  at  once  shown 
up  to  her  sitting-room,  where  he  found  her — " 

"  Go  on,"  said  Meldon ;  "  that  part  about  her  being 
cool  and  unembarrassed,  and  the  next  bit  about  her  wear- 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  37 

ing  a  well-cut  grey  travelling-dress,  isn't  important; 
though,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  her  dress  was  grey." 

The  Major  skipped  a  paragraph,  and  then  began  to 
read  again. 

" '  I  always  felt  quite  certain/  said  Mrs.  Lorimer,  in 
reply  to  a  question  asked  by  our  representative,  '  about 
what  the  jury's  verdict  would  be.  I  have  perfect  confi- 
dence in  the  commonsense  and  justice  of  Englishmen. 
In  fact,  I  had  all  my  arrangements  made,  through  my 
solicitors,  for  my  movements  after  the  trial.  I  have 
taken  a  house  in  a  very  quiet  neighbourhood,  where  I 
shall  be  free  from  all  inquisitive  publicity.' " 

"There,"  said  Meldon,  "those  are  almost  the  exact 
words  Miss  King  used  to  me  in  the  train." 

The  Major  went  on,  reading  aloud. 

"  *  May  I  ask,'  said  our  representative,  '  in  what  part 
of  the  country —  ?  '  '  No,'  said  Mrs.  Lorimer,  smiling. 
'  You  may  not  ask  that ;  or  if  you  do,  I  shall  not  answer 
you.  But  you  may  do  this  for  me,  if  you  like.  You 
may  tell  the  hall  porter  to  order  a  cab  for  me,  a  four- 
wheeler.  I  have  a  good  deal  of  luggage.' " 

"  She  had,"  said  Meldon ;  "  I  saw  it  when  we  got  out 
at  Dunbeg  station,  and  it  wasn't  all  there,  for  one  of  her 
trunks  had  got  lost  on  the  way." 

" '  Our  representative,'  read  the  Major,  '  shook  hands 
with  Mrs.  Lorimer  as  she  entered  the  cab.  The  order 
given  to  the  driver  was  Euston  station.  Thus  a  lady  of 
great  personal  charm,  whose  terrible  experience  has  for 
some  weeks  focussed  the  attention  of  the  civilised  world 
upon  the  affairs  of  her  private  life  passes — '  " 

"  You  needn't  go  on,"  said  Meldon.  "  The  rest  of  the 
article  is  mere  piffle.  The  essential  part  is  what  you've 
read  out,  and  I  imagine  it  ought  to  pretty  well  clinch  the 


38  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

matter.  She  drove  to  Euston,  intending  to  travel  from 
that  station  to  some  very  quiet  neighbourhood  in  which 
she  had  taken  a  house  beforehand.  Now  where  could 
you  possibly  find  a  quieter  neighbourhood  than  this  ?  " 

"  I  don't  see  that  you've  proved  your  point,  J.  J. 
There  are  a  lot  of  other  places  for  which  you  might  start 
from  Euston." 

"  Not  so  many  quiet  neighbourhoods.  Think  of  where 
the  London  and  North- Western  Railway  runs.  Lanca- 
shire !  You  wouldn't  call  Bolton  a  quiet  neighbourhood, 
I  suppose.  North  Wales !  You  know  what  it  is  at  this 
season  of  the  year,  thick  with  holiday  people.  No.  You 
may  take  it  for  certain  that  if  she  left  Euston  she  came 
to  Ireland.  Now  all  English  people  head  straight  for 
the  west  as  soon  as  they  land  in  this  country,  especially 
those  who  have  any  kind  of  a  past  that  they  are  anxious 
to  keep  dark.  Dublin  and  Wicklow  are  just  as  thick  with 
people  as  England  is.  Nobody  ever  stops  half-way 
across  the  country.  Besides,  there  wasn't  another  woman 
in  the  train  with  me  who  could  possibly  have  been  Mrs. 
Lorimer." 

Major  Kent  rose  from  his  chair  and  knocked  the  ashes 
out  of  his  pipe. 

"  I  don't  suppose,  J.  J.,  that  it's  any  use  telling  you 
that  you're  going  to  make  an  ass  of  yourself." 

"  Not  a  bit,  because  it  isn't  true.  I'm  going  to  proceed 
in  the  most  circumspect  and  cautious  manner.  Not  that 
I'm  the  least  afraid  of  making  an  ass  of  myself.  I 
should  never  do  that  under  any  circumstances.  But  be- 
cause I  have  a  conscience  and  I  am  afraid  of  doing  a 
grave  injustice,  I  am  going  to  convince  myself  first  of  all 
that  this  fellow  Simpkins  really  deserves  to  be  killed.  I 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  39 

admit  the  force  of  all  you  said  about  him  last  night,  espe- 
cially that  part  about  the  heating  of  the  church ;  but  it's 
a  serious  thing  to  condemn  a  man  to  death.  It's  a  thing 
that  you  can't  undo  again  once  you've  done  it.  I  must 
see  the  man  myself  before  I  take  any  further  steps." 

"  You  can't  have  him  here,  J.  J.  He's  a  horrid  little 
cad,  and  I  won't  have  him  inside  this  house." 

"  I'm  not  asking  you  to,  at  present.  Later  on  if  it  be- 
comes necessary  in  the  interests  of  justice  to  patch  up 
some  appearance  of  a  reconciliation  between  you  and  him 
I  shall,  of  course,  ask  him  here ;  but  in  the  meanwhile — " 

"  You  may  entertain  him  yourself  if  you  do." 

"  I  may.  But  that  won't  deter  me  from  doing  my 
duty.  You  haven't  had  the  education  in  philosophy  and 
literature,  Major,  that  you  ought  to  have  had;  but  the 
years  that  you  spent  in  the  army  ought  to  have  taught 
you  that  no  amount  of  unpleasantness  should  prevent  a 
man  doing  his  duty.  I  thought  that  was  one  of  the 
things  which  military  life  impressed  on  men.  Suppose 
now  that  it  was  your  duty  to  stand  in  a  pool  of  water 
on  a  wintry  night  looking  out  for  the  approaching  army 
of  a  powerful  enemy.  You  wouldn't  like  doing  it  be- 
cause you'd  know  that  you'd  have  a  cold  in  your  head 
next  day  which  would  probably  last  you  for  the  rest  of 
that  particular  campaign.  But  would  you  allow  that 
fact  to  interfere  with  your  duty?  I'll  give  you  credit, 
Major,  for  not  even  considering  your  own  comfort  in 
the  matter.  You'd  stand  in  the  pool.  You  wouldn't 
so  much  as  splash  about,  and  when  your  feet  got  wet 
you'd  bear  it  without  grumbling.  Why  can't  you  admit 
that  I  am  actuated  by  the  same  sort  of  motives  in  doing 
my  duty  ?  " 


40  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  But  is  it  your  duty  ?  I  can't  see,  really,  that  there's 
any  need  for  you  to  mix  yourself  up  in  it  at  all." 

"  It  is  my  duty,"  said  Meldon,  "  for  several  reasons. 
In  the  first  place  you  are  my  friend,  and  you've  always 
been  kind  to  me ;  so  it's  plainly  my  duty  to  do  you  a  good 
turn  when  I  can.  Next,  I  liked  what  I  saw  of  Miss 
King.  I'm  convinced  that  she's  in  earnest  about  her  art, 
and  is  really  working  at  it  simply  for  art's  sake  and  not 
from  any  selfish  motives.  Therefore,  as  an  educated 
man,  it's  my  duty  to  help  her  if  I  can,  without  outraging 
my  own  conscience  or  acting  in  any  way  unsuitable  for 
a  clergyman.  Assuming  Simpkins  to  be  the  kind  of  man 
you  describe,  it  is  a  public  duty,  the  duty  of  every  good 
citizen,  to  put  him  out  of  the  world  altogether.  He's 
nothing  but  a  nuisance  here,  and  he  can't  be  really  happy. 
I  imagine  that  even  for  his  own  sake  he'd  be  a  great 
deal  better  dead.  He  may  not  see  that  himself,  but  it's 
very  likely  to  be  true.  What's  the  use  of  his  dragging 
out  a  miserable  existence  in  a  place  where  he  is  getting 
more  and  more  unpopular  every  year?  He  can't  like  it. 
Where  does  he  live  ?  " 

"  He  lives,"  said  Major  Kent,  "  in  that  little  house  just 
beyond  the  police  barrack." 

"  That  won't  save  him,"  said  Meldon.  "  Miss  King 
would  laugh  at  our  police  after  slipping  through  the  fin- 
gers of  the  Scotland  Yard  authorities,  and  any  way  he'd 
have  to  go  and  live  with  her  once  they're  married.  I'll 
call  there." 

"  At  this  time  of  day,"  said  the  Major,  "  he'll  probably 
be  in  his  office,  next  to  Doyle's  hotel." 

"  I'll  leave  a  card  at  his  house  first,"  said  Meldon. 
"  It's  only  civil.  Then  I'll  go  on  to  the  office.  I  sup- 
pose you  can  send  me  in,  Major?  I'll  walk  back.  I 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  41 

wouldn't  like  to  keep  your  horse  in  town  all  day.  I  shall 
probably  be  a  long  time.  I  can't  scamp  the  business, 
you  know.  I  must  thoroughly  investigate  Simpkins. 
After  that,  I'll  look  in  and  have  a  chat  with  Doyle." 


CHAPTER  Vj 

MR.  EUSTACE  ST.  CLAIR  SIMPKINS  pre- 
ferred to  have  his  letters  addressed  "  E.  St.  Clair- 
Simpkins,  Esq.,"  as  if  his  second  Christian  name  were 
part  of  his  surname.  He  belonged  by  birth  to  the  haute 
aristocratic,  and  believed  that  the  use  of  a  hyphen  made 
this  fact  plain  to  the  members  of  the  middle  classes  with 
whom  he  came  in  contact.  He  was  a  man  of  thirty-five 
years  of  age,  but  looked  slightly  older,  because  his  hair 
was  receding  rapidly  from  the  left  side  of  his  forehead. 
He  had  enjoyed,  for  a  time,  the  education  afforded  by  one 
of  the  greatest  of  the  English  public  schools;  but  at  the 
age  of  sixteen,  being  then  classed  with  boys  so  small 
that  he  looked  ridiculous  among  them,  he  was  removed 
at  the  special  request  of  the  headmaster.  A  private  tutor, 
heavily  paid,  took  him  in  hand,  but  was  no  more  success- 
ful with  him  than  the  schoolmasters  had  been.  At  the 
age  of  eighteen  he  was  found  unfit  to  pass  any  of  the 
examinations  which  open  the  way  to  gentlemanly  em- 
ployment. Various  jobs  were  found  for  him  by  his  de- 
sponding parents,  but  on  every  occasion  he  was  returned 
to  them  politely.  He  drifted  at  last  into  an  Irish  land- 
agent's  office.  Mr.  Tempest  was  a  successful  man  of 
business,  and  managed  estates  in  various  parts  of  the 
country  from  his  Dublin  office.  He  was  under  an  obliga- 

42 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  43 

tion  to  a  London  solicitor,  whose  wife  was  the  sister  of 
Mrs.  Simpkins,  the  mother  of  Eustace  St.  Clair.  He 
felt  that  he  could  not  very  well  refuse  to  give  the  young 
man  such  a  chance  as  a  clerkship  afforded.  Things  went 
on  fairly  satisfactory  until  Mr.  Simpkins  conceived  the 
idea  of  marrying  his  employer's  daughter.  He  reasoned, 
quite  rightly,  that  Miss  Tempest,  being  an  only  child, 
was  likely  to  have  a  substantial  fortune.  Mr.  Tempest, 
unimpressed  by  the  hyphened  St.  Clair,  was  unwilling  to 
allow  the  courtship  to  proceed.  He  sent  Mr.  Simpkins 
down  to  Ballymoy,  and  charged  him  with  the  manage- 
ment of  such  parts  of  the  Buckley  estate  as  were  not 
already  sold  to  tenants. 

Mr.  Simpkins,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  felt  that 
he  had  found  a  position  which  really  suited  him.  There 
was  very  little  work  to  do.  He  received  the  ground 
rents  of  the  town  of  Ballymoy ;  saw  that  Ballymoy  House 
was  kept  in  repair  and  the  grounds  in  tolerable  order; 
and  let  the  fishing  of  the  river  every  year  by  means  of 
advertisements  in  sporting  papers.  Many  men  would 
have  found  the  life  dull,  but  Mr.  Simpkins  had  a  busy 
and  vigorous  mind  of  a  sort  not  uncommon  among  in- 
competent people.  By  temperament  he  was  a  reformer 
of  minor  abuses,  and  Ballymoy  afforded  him  an  almost 
unique  opportunity  for  the  exercise  of  his  powers. 
There  were,  of  course,  difficulties.  The  inhabitants  of 
Ballymoy,  long  unaccustomed  to  the  presence  of  a  re- 
former amongst  them,  had  drifted  into  quiet,  easy  ways 
of  living.  Mr.  Simpkins,  who  was  not  lacking  in  a  cer- 
tain quality  of  quiet  persistence,  troubled  every  one  with 
fine  impartiality,  and  became  exceedingly  unpopular  in 
Ballymoy.  The  Resident  Magistrate  hated  being  obliged 
to  enforce  unnecessary  laws  such  as  that  which  forbids! 


44  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

cyclists  to  ride  on  footpaths,  and  that  which  ordains  the 
carrying  of  lighted  lanterns  on  carts  at  night.  The  post- 
man, at  the  other  end  of  the  official  scale,  liked  loitering 
on  his  rounds,  and  had  adopted  a  pleasant  habit  of  hand- 
ing on  letters  to  any  wayfarer  who  might  be  supposed  to 
be  proceeding  in  the  direction  of  the  place  to  which  the 
letters  were  addressed.  Every  one  with  a  public  duty 
of  any  sort  to  perform  was  stimulated  by  Mr.  Simpkins, 
and  consequently  came  to  hate  him. 

After  a  while  Mr.  Doyle,  on  whom,  as  chief  citizen, 
the  duty  naturally  devolved,  got  up  a  petition  to  Mr. 
Tempest.  The  necessity  for  removing  Mr.  Simpkins  was 
presented  in  the  strongest  terms.  Mr.  Tempest,  who  was 
a  man  of  wide  experience  and  kindly  heart,  sympathised 
with  Mr.  Doyle  and  the  others  who  signed  the  petition, 
but  he  did  not  recall  Mr.  Simpkins.  He  knew  of  no 
place  in  Ireland  further  from  Dublin  than  Ballymoy  is ; 
and  it  appeared  to  him  above  all  things  desirable  to  keep 
Mr.  Simpkins  at  a  distance.  It  was  better,  in  his  opin- 
ion, that  Ballymoy  should  suffer,  than  that  his  own  house 
should  be  haunted  on  Sundays  and  his  office  disorganised 
on  week-days  by  Mr.  Simpkins.  He  acknowledged  the 
receipt  of  the  Ballymoy  petition,  and  promised,  menda- 
ciously, to  consider  the  matter. 

Meldon  drove  into  Ballymoy  on  the  first  morning  of 
his  holiday,  and  went  straight  to  Mr.  Simpkins'  house. 
He  left  a  card  there,  and  then  walked  on  to  the  office. 
Mr.  Simpkins  was  in  the  office,  and  Meldon  greeted  him 
with  a  warmth  which  seemed  actually  affectionate.  Mr. 
Simpkins  was  surprised,  and  rubbed  his  hand,  which  had 
been  hurt  by  the  hearty  way  in  which  Meldon  shook  it. 

"  Is  there,"  he  asked,  in  a  puzzled  tone,  "  anything  that 
I  can  do  for  you  ?  " 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  45 

"Nothing,"  said  Meldon;  "nothing  whatever.  If 
there  was  I'm  sure  you'd  do  it,  and  I  shouldn't  hesitate 
to  ask  you.  But  there  isn't.  I  simply  called  in  to  have 
a  chat.  You  won't  mind  if  I  smoke,  will  you?  " 

"  I  never  smoke  in  my  office,"  said  Simpkins.  "  I  dis- 
like free  and  easy  and  slipshod  ways  of  doing  business." 

Meldon  filled  and  lit  his  pipe. 

"  You're  perfectly  right,"  he  said.  "  There's  nothing 
impresses  the  intelligent  stranger  so  unfavourably  as  the 
smell  of  tobacco  in  an  office  when  he  comes  into  it  in  the 
hope  of  doing  business  with  a  competent  man.  I  wish 
you  would  impress  your  idea  on  that  subject,  and  I  may 
say  a  good  many  other  subjects,  on  the  people  of  this 
town.  They  are  lamentably  deficient  in  what  I  may  call 
the  etiquette  of  commercial  life;  and  yet  all  these  little 
points  count  for  a  lot.  You  and  I  know  that." 

Simpkins  hesitated.  He  was  at  first  inclined  to  be 
angry.  Meldon  was  smoking  vigorously,  and  his  tobacco 
was  of  the  kind  described  as  "  full-flavoured."  But  the 
remarks  about  the  etiquette  of  business  were  certainly 
sound.  Mr.  Simpkins  really  believed  that  he  had  a  mis- 
sion to  teach  manners  and  method  to  the  people  of  Bally- 
moy. 

"  Would  you  mind  telling  me,"  he  said  at  last,  "  who 
you  are  ? " 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  said  Meldon ;  "  I  shall  be  quite 
pleased.  At  the  same  time  I  think  I  ought  to  point  out 
to  you  that,  if  you'd  been  on  speaking  terms  with  Major 
Kent,  you'd  have  heard  all  about  me  weeks  ago,  and  very 
likely  would  have  been  asked  to  dinner  to  meet  me  last 
night.  Why  have  you  quarrelled  with  the  poor  Major? 
He's  a  nice  enough  sort  of  man,  and  most  people  find  him 
easy  enough  to  get  on  with." 


46  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  It  was  he  who  quarrelled  with  me.  I  had  no  inten- 
tion—" 

"  So  it  was.  I  remember  that  now ;  something  about 
fishing,  wasn't  it?  Curious  how  people  will  lose  their 
tempers  about  ridiculous  little  trifles.  That's  the  worst 
of  places  like  this.  The  people  who  have  never  lived 
anywhere  else  become  irritable  and  take  offence  about 
nothing,  simply  because  their  minds  are  cut  off  from 
wider  interests.  You  and  I,  now,  know  that  no  fish  in 
the  world,  however  large,  is  worth  fighting  about.  We 
wouldn't,  either  of  us,  mind  a  bit  if  some  other  fellow 
came  along  and  hooked  the  whale  which  we  had  marked 
down  as  our  private  prey." 

Simpkins  was  puzzled  again.  The  doctrine  about  fish- 
ing rights  struck  him  as  slightly  socialistic.  It  might  pos- 
sibly be  applicable  in  the  case  of  whales,  but  society  could 
scarcely  survive  as  an  organised  whole  if  many  men  re- 
garded the  possession  of  salmon  as  of  no  importance. 
At  the  same  time  he  was  pleased;  it  gratified  him  im- 
mensely to  be  hailed  as  a  fellow  citizen  of  a  larger  world. 

"  Would  you  mind,"  he  said,  speaking  in  quite  a 
friendly  tone,  "  telling  me  your  name?  " 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  said  Meldon.  "  I  said  so  before. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  so  far  from  having  any  wish  to 
conceal  my  name  from  you,  I  went  round  to  your  house 
before  I  called  here  and  left  my  card  on  you.  You'll 
find  it  there  when  you  get  back.  I  always  like  to  be  strict 
in  the  observance  of  the  rules  of  civilised  society.  I 
particularly  dislike  the  slack  ways  into  which  people  in 
places  like  this  are  inclined  to  drift.  I  must  say  for  the 
Major,  he's  not  as  bad  as  the  rest  in  that  respect.  He 
always  dresses  for  dinner." 

"  So  do  I." 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  47 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  it.  That  ought  to  be  a  bond  of 
union  between  you  and  the  Major.  You  must  be  the 
only  two  men  in  Ballymoy  who  do.  By  the  way,  have 
you  met  Miss  King?" 

"  No.  She  arrived  yesterday,  I  hear ;  but  I  haven't 
seen  her." 

"  You  ought  to  go  up  and  call  on  her  at  once.  You'll 
like  her,  I'm  sure.  She's  very  good-looking." 

He  paused  for  a  moment.  The  announcement  did  not 
seem  to  excite  Simpkins'  interest.  He  was,  indeed,  not 
of  the  temperament  which  is  strongly  moved  by  beauty 
or  personal  charm. 

"  She's  also  very  rich,"  said  Meldon. 

"  I  thought  she  must  be  pretty  well  off  when  she  took 
Ballymoy  House." 

"  She  is.  And  what's  more,  she's  uncommonly  well 
connected.  Her  uncle  is  an  earl.  I  forget  at  this  mo- 
ment what  his  exact  title  is ;  but  I  know  he's  an  earl,  and 
I  have  it  on  very  good  authority  that  he's  likely  to  be 
made  a  marquis  quite  soon." 

He  paused,  and  was  gratified  to  observe  that  Simpkins 
appeared  to  be  greatly  interested  by  this  information  about 
Miss  King.  He  pursued  his  advantage  at  once. 

"  I  shall  call  on  her  myself,"  he  said,  "  though  there's 
not  really  much  use  in  my  making  myself  agreeable  to 
her.  I'm  married  already.  The  Major  would  have  told 
you  that,  too,  if  you'd  been  on  speaking  terms  with  him. 
You  really  must  make  it  up  with  the  Major,  Simpkins. 
I  hope  to  see  a  good  deal  of  you  while  I'm  in  Ballymoy, 
and  it  will  be  most  inconvenient  for  me  if  you  won't 
speak  to  the  Major  while  I'm  staying  in  his  house." 

"  Did  you  say  that  you  knew  Miss  King?  " 

"  Not  intimately,"  said  Meldon ;  "  at  least  not  very 


48  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

intimately.  I  travelled  down  in  the  train  with  her  yester- 
day, and  we  had  a  pleasant  chat  together.  If  I  wasn't 
married  already — but  there's  no  use  talking  about  that. 
And  I  don't  for  a  moment  suppose  that  the  Major  will 
care  about  having  a  try.  He's  a  confirmed  old  bachelor. 
Though  it  would  be  a  right  good  thing  for  him  if  he  did. 
Miss  King  must  have  a  whole  pot  of  money,  and  she  looks 
to  me  the  sort  of  woman  whom  it  would  be  quite  easy  to 
marry.  I'm  afraid  I  must  be  going  now.  I'm  so  glad  I 
caught  you,  Simpkins.  I've  heard  a  lot  about  you  during 
the  short  time  I've  been  in  Ballymoy;  and  I  may  say, 
without  the  least  wish  to  flatter,  that  I  was  most  anxious 
to  meet  you.  Good-bye,  and  be  sure  to  call  on  Miss  King. 
It's  a  pity  to  think  of  that  poor  girl  all  alone  in  a  great 
barrack  of  a  place  like  Ballymoy  House,  without  a 
civilised  creature  to  speak  to." 

Meldon  left  the  office  very  well  satisfied  with  himself. 
He  went  next  into  the  hotel.  The  day  was  hot,  and  there 
was  very  little  going  on  in  the  town.  The  streets  were 
almost  empty,  for  the  country  people  were  busy  on  their 
farms.  The  hotel  appeared  to  be  entirely  deserted.  The 
waiter  had  left  the  coffee  room,  and  gone  to  visit  a  friend 
in  the  police  barrack.  The  barmaid,  after  finishing  one 
penny  novel,  had  gone  into  the  shop  next  door  to  borrow 
another  from  the  milliner.  Meldon  penetrated  to  the 
kitchen,  and  found  an  untidy  maid  asleep,  very  uncom- 
fortably, on  an  upright  chair.  She  woke  with  a  start 
when  he  banged  a  frying-pan  against  the  front  of  the 
oven. 

"  I  hope  I  haven't  startled  you,"  he  said  politely.  "  I 
shall  be  greatly  obliged  if  you  will  tell  me  where  Mr. 
Doyle  is  to  be  found." 

"  He's  within  in  his  own  room ;  and  what's  more,  the 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  49 

doctor's  along  with  him,  and  he  did  say  that  nobody  was 
to  be  let  next  or  nigh  him  by  reason  of  his  being  busy." 

"  If  he's  busy,"  said  Meldon,  "  he's  the  only  man  in 
Ballymoy  that  is,  excepting  myself ;  and  any  way  that 
prohibition  doesn't  apply  to  me.  I'm  an  old  friend.  I'll 
just  step  in  and  see  him.  You  needn't  announce  me.  If 
you  like  you  can  go  to  sleep  again ;  but  if  I  were  you  I'd 
be  beginning  to  get  the  dinner.  It's  near  twelve  o'clock." 

"Is  it,  then?" 

"  It  is.     Is  your  name  Bridget  or  Mary  ?  " 

"  It's  Sabina  they  call  me." 

"  You're  not  a  bad-looking  girl,  Sabina ;  and  if  you'd 
attend  to  your  business  instead  of  going  to  sleep  in  the 
middle  of  the  day,  you  might  die  a  rich  woman  yet." 

"  I  would  not,  then.  How  would  the  like  of  me  be 
rich?" 

"  You  certainly  won't  be,"  said  Meldon,  "  if  you  don't 
do  your  work." 

"  The  potatoes  is  in  the  pot,"  said  Sabina. 

"  They  may  be ;  but  Mr.  Doyle  will  be  looking  for  more 
than  potatoes  at  dinner  time.  He  doesn't  look  as  if  he 
lived  entirely  on  potatoes." 

Sabina  grinned.     Doyle  was  a  portly  man. 

"  It  won't  take  me  long  to  fry  a  couple  of  rashers,"  she 
said,  "  once  the  grease  is  hot." 

"  And  is  fried  bacon  and  potatoes  all  you're  going  to 
give  the  poor  man  ?  What  wages  does  he  pay  you  ?  " 

"  Six  pounds." 

"  Very  well.  Now  listen  to  me,  Sabina.  You  put  your 
back  into  it  and  cook  the  man  a  decent  dinner.  Give  him 
soup,  and  then  a  nicely  done  chop  with  a  dish  of  spinach 
and  some  fried  potatoes.  After  that  a  sweet  omelette — " 

"  Glory  be  to  God !  "  said  Sabina. 


50 

"  And  then  a  little  savoury,  tomato  and  olives,  beaten 
to  a  cream,  with  the  yolk  of  a  hard-boiled  egg  served  up 
on  toast,  cut  into  dice." 

"  Arrah,  what  talk !  "  said  Sabina. 

"  Get  him  accustomed  to  that  sort  of  dinner  for  three 
weeks  or  a  month,  and  then  ask  him  for  a  rise  in  your 
wages.  He'll  give  it  to  you." 

"  He  would  not." 

"  He  would.  Any  man  would.  The  mistake  you  make 
is  half-starving  him.  That  makes  his  temper  bad, 
and—" 

"  I  wouldn't  say  then  that  ever  I  heard  a  cross  word 
out  of  his  mouth,"  said  Sabina,  "  unless  it  might  be  when 
he'd  be  talking  of  Mr.  Simpkins  or  the  like." 

"  I  suppose  he  swears  then,"  said  Meldon. 

"  He  does  terrible." 

"  I  don't  wonder.  I  never  swear  myself.  Being  a 
clergyman,  I  can't,  of  course.  But  from  what  I've  seen 
of  Mr.  Simpkins,  and  from  what  I've  heard  about  him, 
I  should  think  he'd  make  most  men  swear.  Do  you  know 
him  at  all  intimately,  Sabina  ?  " 

"  I  do  not ;  but  the  girl  that's  with  him  beyond  in  the 
house  is  a  cousin  of  my  own,  and  I  hear  her  talking 
about  him.  She  does  be  saying  that  the  like  of  him  for 
nonsensical  goings  on  she  never  seen.  She — " 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Meldon.  "  I  don't  want  to  hear 
your  cousin's  views  of  Mr.  Simpkins'  domestic  arrange- 
ments. She's  red-haired,  if  she's  the  girl  that  opened  the 
door  to  me  a  while  ago,  and  I  never  knew  one  of  her 
colour  that  spoke  the  truth." 

Sabina  was  loyal  to  her  family.  She  resented  Meldon's 
remark. 

"  If  you  were  to  put  me  on  my  oath,"  she  said,  "  I 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  51 

wouldn't  call  the  hair  that's  on  your  own  head  black, 
nor  yet  yellow." 

"  My  hair,"  said  Meldon,  "  is  what's  called  auburn ; 
and  in  any  case  I  have  more  strength  of  character  than 
to  be  driven  into  untruthfulness  by  the  colour  of  my 
hair.  Did  you  say  it  was  Dr.  O'Donoghue  was  inside 
with  Mr.  Doyle?" 

"  It  is,"  said  Sabina. 

"  I  suppose,  now,  he  isn't  particularly  fond  of  Mr. 
Simpkins  either." 

Sabina  grinned  broadly. 

"  From  the  pleasant  way  in  which  you're  smiling,"  said 
Meldon,  "  I  think  I  may  take  it  for  granted  that  Dr. 
O'Donoghue  wouldn't  go  far  out  of  his  way  to  find  out 
exactly  the  kind  of  medicine  that  would  cure  Mr.  Simp- 
kins  if  by  any  chance  he  happened  to  fall  sick." 

"  He  would  not.  But  they  do  say  he'd  poison  him  if 
he  got  the  chance." 

"  I  don't  want  him  to  do  that.  I  should  be  very  sorry 
if  he  did.  All  I  want  to  be  sure  of  is  that  the  doctor 
wouldn't  put  himself  out  to  cure  Mr.  Simpkins  if  any- 
body else  poisoned  him." 

"  The  Lord  save  us ! "  said  Sabina.  "  Is  it  murder 
you're  thinking  of  ?  " 

"  It  is  not,"  said  Meldon.  "  Don't  get  any  foolish  idea 
of  that  kind  into  your  head.  I'm  not  a  murderer.  I'm 
merely  putting  what  is  called  a  supposititious  case,  with  a 
view  to  finding  out  what  Dr.  O'Donoghue's  real  feelings 
are.  I  don't  suppose  you  know  what  a  supposititious 
case  is  ?  " 

"  I  do  not.  It  was  a  backward  place  where  I  was 
reared,  and  I  wasn't  kept  to  school  regular;  and  what's 
more,  the  Irish  wasn't  taught  in  them  times." 


52  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  It  wouldn't  have  helped  you  much  if  it  was,"  said 
Meldon.  "  A  supposititious  case  is  the  same  thing,  very 
nearly,  as  a  hypothetical  proposition.  It  consists  of  two 
parts,  a  protasis  and  an  apodosis.  For  instance — 

"  It's  laughing  at  me  you  are." 

"  It  is  not,  but  trying  to  educate  you  a  little.  For 
instance,  I  should  be  putting  a  hypothetical  case  if  I  were 
to  say,  '  Supposing  you  cooked  the  dinner  I  described 
every  day  for  Mr.  Doyle — ' " 

"  I  couldn't  do  it  then,  for  I  wouldn't  be  fit." 

"  That's  exactly  what  makes  it  a  supposititious  case," 
said  Meldon.  "  Now  perhaps  you'll  understand  that  I 
don't  intend  to  poison  Mr.  Simpkins  myself." 

"  Nor  the  doctor  won't  do  it  for  you,"  said  Sabina. 

"  You  said  a  minute  ago  that  he  would." 

"  He  would  not,  for  he's  a  nice  gentleman,  as  simple 
and  innocent  as  a  child,  only  an  odd  time  when  his  temper 
would  be  riz." 

"  Any  way  he  won't  be  asked  to.  Good-bye,  Sabina. 
I'll  look  in  and  see  you  next  time  I'm  passing.  Don't 
let  that  red-haired  cousin  of  yours  be  putting  phosphorous 
paste,  or  any  of  those  patent  rat  poisons,  into  Mr.  Simp- 
kins'  food.  She'll  get  herself  into  trouble  if  she  does." 


CHAPTER  VI 

MELDON  opened  the  door  of  Mr.  Doyle's  private 
sitting-room  without  knocking  and  walked  in. 
The  hotel  keeper  and  Dr.  O'Donoghue  were  sitting  at 
opposite  ends  of  the  table,  with  a  bottle  of  whisky  and 
a  jug  of  water  between  them.  Doyle,  who  was  placed 
with  his  back  to  the  door,  spoke  without  looking  round. 

"  Didn't  I  tell  you,  Sabina  Gallagher,"  he  said,  "  that 
if  you  came  into  this  room,  interrupting  me  and  the 
doctor,  I'd  cut  the  two  ears  off  you,  and  send  you  back 
to  your  mother  with  them  in  a  box  in  the  well  of  the  car  ? 
Did  I  tell  you  that  or  did  I  not?  And  now  nothing  will 
do  you  but  to  fling  open  the  door  as  if  the  Lord-Lieu- 
tenant and  the  rest  of  them  playboys  beyond  in  Dublin 
Castle  was — " 

The  expression  of  Dr.  O'Donoghue's  face  made  Mr. 
Doyle  pause.  He  turned  and  saw  Meldon  standing  on 
the  threshold. 

"  Be  damn ! "  he  said,  "  if  it  isn't  Mr.  Meldon.  The 
Major  was  telling  me  last  week  he  was  expecting  you. 
You're  looking  well,  so  you  are.  England  agrees  with 
you." 

"  I  can't  say  as  much  for  you,"  said  Meldon.  "  You're 
getting  fat.  You  ought  to  take  more  exercise.  Why 
don't  you  start  a  golf  links?  It  would  do  you  all  the 

S3 


54  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

good  in  the  world,  and  be  an  attraction  to  the  hotel 
besides." 

"  If  I'm  putting  on  flesh,"  said  Doyle,  "  it's  a  queer 
thing,  for  the  life's  fair  tormented  out  of  me." 

"  Simpkins,  I  suppose,"  said  Meldon. 

"  The  same,"  said  Doyle.  "  The  like  of  that  man  for 
making  trouble  in  a  place  I  never  seen;  no,  nor  nobody 
else." 

"  I  hear,"  said  Meldon,  "  that  the  doctor's  thinking  of 
poisoning  him." 

"  Whoever  told  you  that  told  you  a  lie,"  said  Dr. 
O'Donoghue ,  "  not  but  what—" 

"  Myself  and  the  doctor,"  said  Doyle,  "  was  making  up 
plans  when  you  come  in  on  us.  We  was  thinking  of  what 
you  might  call  an  ambuscade,  worked  so  as  we'd  get  the 
better  of  him  without  his  being  able  to  take  the  law  of 
us;  and  he's  mighty  fond  of  the  law,  that  same  gentle- 
man— too  fond." 

"  I'm  inclined  to  think,"  said  Meldon,  "  that  any  am- 
buscade which  you  and  O'Donoghue  are  likely  to  have 
planned  is  likely  to  turn  out  rather  futile.  The  fact  is 
I'm  thinking  of  dealing  with  the  man  myself,  and  I'd 
rather  he  was  left  entirely  in  my  hands  for  the  present." 

"  Be  damn ! "  said  Doyle,  "  but  I  wouldn't  ask  better 
than  just  for  yourself  to  take  in  hand  and  hunt  him  out 
of  the  place  altogether." 

"  It's  you  could  do  it,"  said  Dr.  O'Donoghue. 

"  It  is,"  said  Doyle.  "  Divil  the  better  man  at  devis- 
ing of  ambuscades  ever  I  come  across,  and  I've  known 
some  in  my  day  that  you  might  call  gladiators." 

"  I'm  not  precisely  a  professional  gladiator,"  said 
Meldon  modestly ;  "  but  I've  studied  strategy  a  little  in 
my  time,  and  I  rather  think  I'll  get  the  better  of  Mr. 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  55 

Simpkins.  I  suppose  now  you  would  not  object  to  at- 
tending his  funeral  ?  " 

"  I  would  not,"  said  Doyle,  "  if  so  be  there  was  no  risk 
of  my  being  hanged  for  any  share  I  might  have  in  bring- 
ing the  same  about." 

"There's  not  the  least  chance  of  that,"  said  Meldon. 
"  You  won't  have  to  do  anything  except  refrain  from 
making  a  public  fool  of  the  man  with  any  kind  of  tricks 
for  the  next  fortnight." 

"  What  is  it  you're  thinking  of  doing  ?  "  asked  Doyle. 

"  The  doctor,"  said  Meldon,  "  will  of  course  have  to 
sign  the  death  certificate." 

"  I'll  do  that,"  said  Dr.  O'Donoghue,  "  as  soon  as  ever 
you  satisfy  me  that  the  man's  dead.  If  there  isn't  a  hole 
drilled  in  his  skull  with  a  bullet,  I'll  say  it's  heart  failure 
that  finished  him.  After  the  way  he  behaved  to  me,  I 
can't  be  expected  to  make  a  post-mortem  of  him.  I  dare- 
say the  Major  was  telling  you  what  he  did." 

"  I  heard  he  wanted  you  to  put  some  ridiculous  sanitary 
act  in  force  against  poor  Doyle.  That,  of  course,  was 
quite  intolerable." 

"  There  was  worse  besides  that,"  said  Dr.  O'Donoghue 
gloomily. 

"  He  had  it  put  out  against  the  doctor,"  said  Doyle, 
"  that  old  Biddy  Finnegan  died  for  the  want  of  proper 
medical  attendance,  and  her  a  woman  of  near  ninety,  that 
was  bound  to  die  any  way,  and  would  have  died  sooner, 
most  likely,  if  the  doctor  hadn't  let  her  alone  the  way  he 
did." 

"  That  old  woman,"  said  the  doctor,  "  wasn't  neglected. 
She  had  a  bottle  by  her,  when  she  died,  that  I  sent  out 
to  her  less  than  a  week  before,  and  she  hadn't  the  half 
of  it  drunk.  What's  more,  I  wouldn't  have  minded  a 


56  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

bit  if  Simpkins  had  had  any  right  to  be  interfering ;  but 
he  hadn't.  Thady  Flanagan — that's  married  to  old 
Biddy's  grand-daughter — was  contented  enough  with  the 
way  she  died,  and  asked  me  civilly  would  I  have  any  ob- 
jection to  his  taking  home  the  half-bottle  of  medicine  for 
the  use  of  one  of  his  own  children.  What  I  say  is,  that 
if  the  woman's  own  relations  had  no  complaint  to  make, 
what  business  had  Simpkins  to  be  putting  in  his  oar? 
What  aggravated  me  was  that  kind  of  gratuitous  and 
unnecessary  interfering." 

"  I  quite  see  your  point,"  said  Meldon.     "  It's — " 

"  You've  only  heard  the  half  of  it,"  said  Doyle.  "  The 
doctor's  backward  in  telling  you,  and  small  blame  to  him ; 
but  Simpkins  wrote  off  to  the  Local  Government  Board, 
preferring  a  lot  of  charges  against  the  doctor,  and  against 
myself  as  Chairman  of  the  Board  of  Guardians — things 
you'd  wonder  any  man  would  have  the  face  to  say." 

"  What  happened  ?  "  said  Meldon. 

"  We've  quietened  them  down  for  the  present,"  said 
Doyle,  "  but  there  was  a  lot  of  talk  of  a  sworn  enquiry. 
And  what  did  Simpkins  do  it  for  if  it  wasn't  just  the 
delight  he  takes  in  destroying  the  peace  of  the  town? 
You  know  very  well,  Mr.  Meldon,  the  way  we  all  pulled 
together  here,  Catholics  and  Protestants,  and  never  had 
any  bad  feeling.  And  where's  the  good  of  bringing  in 
the  Local  Government  Board  to  be  stirring  up  strife 
among  us?  But  that's  not  all  he  did,  nor  the  half  of  it. 
He  wrote  a  letter  last  October  to  the  Inspector-General 
of  the  Police,  complaining  of  the  sergeant  beyond,  that 
he  wasn't  doing  his  duty." 

"  I  wouldn't  expect  you  to  be  taking  the  part  of  the 
police,"  said  Meldon.  "You  always  went  in  for  being 
a  strong  Nationalist." 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  57 

"  And  so  I  am,"  said  Doyle.  "  And  so's  the  doctor. 
In  a  general  way  there  isn't  two  men  in  Ireland  that  hates 
the  police  worse  than  the  doctor  and  myself;  but  the 
sergeant  was  a  decent,  poor  man,  with  a  long  family 
dependent  on  him,  and  I  never  heard  tell  of  his  doing  any 
harm  to  any  one." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Meldon,  "  that  was  the  reason  Mr. 
Simpkins  complained  of  him.  After  all,  Doyle,  we  must 
be  reasonable.  What  are  the  police  for,  if  it  isn't  to  do 
harm  to  people — objectionable  people  ?  A  policeman  who 
never  injures  anybody  isn't  worth  his  keep.  If  what  you 
say  about  the  sergeant  is  true,  or  anything  like  true, 
Simpkins  was  evidently  perfectly  justified  in  acting  as 
he  did." 

"  You  won't  say  that,"  said  Doyle,  "  when  you  hear  the 
way  it  happened.  There's  two  apple  trees  in  the  garden 
at  the  back  of  the  house  Simpkins  lives  in." 

"  I  remember  them,"  said  Meldon ;  "  but  there  never 
were  any  apples  on  them  in  my  time." 

"There  were  apples  on  them  last  year,"  said  Doyle, 
"however  they  came  there.  Simpkins  did  be  saying  it 
was  on  account  of  the  way  he  pruned  the  trees ;  but  he'd 
be  talking  a  long  time  before  I'd  believe  the  like  of  that. 
Any  way,  the  apples  were  there,  and  a  good  many  of 
them.  I  didn't  see  them  myself,  but  they  tell  me  there 
might  have  been  up  to  ten  stone  altogether.  Well,  one 
night  the  half  of  them  was  gone.  The  gossures  from 
about  the  town  had  them  ate." 

"Of  course  they  had,"  said  Meldon.  "What  would 
you  expect  ?  " 

"  What  nobody  would  expect,"  said  Doyle,  "  was  the 
temper  Simpkins  was  in  in  the  morning.  He  was  up  and 
down,  in  and  out  of  the  police  barrack,  cursing  all  sorts. 


58  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

Well,  the  sergeant  came  out  and  looked  at  the  trees,  and 
he  asked  Simpkins  did  he  have  the  apples  counted  before 
they  were  took,  and  would  he  be  prepared  to  swear  to 
them  if  so  be  that  the  police  found  them  for  him.  You'd 
think  that  would  have  pacified  him,  but  it  didn't.  So  the 
sergeant,  who  wanted  to  do  the  best  he  could  for  the 
peace  of  the  town,  went  down  to  the  house  again  after 
he  had  his  dinner  ate,  and  two  constables  along  with  him, 
and  asked  the  girl  that  does  be  with  Mr.  Simpkins — " 

"  Sabina's  red-haired  cousin,"  said  Meldon. 

"  Asked  her,"  said  Doyle,  "  was  there  ever  a  boy  about 
the  place  at  night;  which  of  course  there  wasn't,  her 
being  a  respectable  girl  that  wasn't  keeping  company  with 
any  boy,  unless  it  might  be  walking  out  now  and  then  of 
a  Sunday  with  Jamesy  Carroll.  Believe  you  me,  it  took 
the  sergeant  all  he  knew  to  quieten  down  her  mother  that 
was  over  at  the  barracks  asking  for  the  name  of  the 
villain  that  was  taking  away  her  daughter's  character. 
That  night  the  rest  of  the  apples  was  took,  and  Simpkins 
was  fit  to  be  put  in  the  asylum  in  the  morning.  He  said 
the  sergeant  was  an  incompetent  jackass. — Wasn't  them 
the  words  he  used,  doctor  ?  " 

"  And  others  along  with  them,"  said  Dr.  O'Donoghue. 

"  The  sergeant,  being  a  man  who'd  always  kept  himself 
to  himself  and  didn't  mix  with  bad  company,  wasn't 
going  near  the  house  while  the  like  of  that  language  was 
going  on.  But  he  sent  down  the  whole  of  the  four  con- 
stables to  look  at  the  apple  trees;  which  they  did.  But 
Simpkins  got  worse  instead  of  better.  He  wrote  off  a 
note  to  the  District  Inspector  complaining  of  the  sergeant. 
But  the  D.I.  had  more  sense  than  to  take  any  notice, 
knowing  well  that  if  there's  an  apple  in  the  place  the 
gossures  will  get  it,  and  small  blame  to  them." 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  59 

"  Sensible  man,"  said  Meldon. 

"  When  Simpkins  got  no  satisfaction  out  of  him,"  said 
Doyle,  "  he  wrote  to  the  County  Inspector.  I  can  tell 
you  he  took  mighty  little  by  that.  It  was  a  week  after, 
or  maybe  more,  when  he  got  an  answer  back.  It  was 
Sabina  Gallagher  told  me  what  was  in  it,  having  got  it 
out  of  her  cousin,  that's  servant  to  Simpkins  and  seen 
the  letter,  so  I  know  what  I'm  telling  you  is  the  truth.' 
The  County  Inspector  said  that  if  there  was  boycotting 
in  the  place,  or  cattle  driving,  or  any  kind  of  lawlessness, 
he'd  be  quick  enough  to  have  extra  police  drafted  in  and 
a  baton  charge  up  and  down  upon  the  streets  of  the 
town ;  but  that  he  wasn't  going  to  upset  the  policy  of  the 
Government,  and  maybe  have  questions  asked  about  him 
in  Parliament,  for  the  sake  of  a  few  shillings'  worth  of 
apples.  You'd  think  that  would  have  been  enough  for 
Simpkins,  but  it  wasn't.  He  wrote  another  letter,  up  to 
Dublin  Castle,  to  the  Inspector-General  of  Police,  no  less, 
and  the  end  of  it  was  that  the  sergeant  was  moved  out 
of  this." 

"Poor  fellow,"  said  Meldon.  "Did  he  mind 
much?" 

"  He  did  not  then,  for  they  sent  him  to  a  better  station. 
It  was  only  last  week  they  moved  him,  there  being  a  lot 
of  enquiries  to  be  gone  through  that  occupied  them  the 
whole  of  the  winter  and  the  spring.  The  doctor  and  my- 
self is  thinking  of  getting  up  a  subscription  to  present  him 
with  an  illuminated  address  on  account  of  the  way  he 
conducted  himself  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  inhabitants 
of  this  town  while  he  was  in  it,  and  as  a  protest  against 
the  underhand  way  that  Simpkins  went  about  trying  to 
injure  him  and  take  the  bread  out  of  the  mouth  of  his 
children." 


60  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  I'll  see  that  the  Major  subscribes  to  that,"  said 
Meldon. 

"  Tell  Mr.  Meldon,"  said  Doyle,  "  what  it  was  you  were 
saying  ought  to  be  on  the  address." 

"  It  isn't  worth  speaking  about,"  said  the  doctor 
modestly. 

"  You'd  better  tell  me,"  said  Meldon.  "  If  I'm  to  be 
responsible  for  revenging  the  wrongs  of  the  community 
on  Simpkins,  I  ought  to  be  well  up  in  every  detail  of 
what's  going  on." 

"  It  was  nothing  but  just  an  idea  that  came  across  my 
mind,"  said  the  doctor. 

"  It  may  be  only  that,"  said  Meldon,  "  but  it  may  be 
more.  The  proper  person  to  judge  of  its  importance  is 
me.  You  must  have  frequently  observed,  doctor,  that  the 
man  to  whom  an  idea  occurs  is  not  by  any  means  the  best 
judge  of  its  value.  Sometimes  he  thinks  too  much  of  it. 
Take  Galileo,  for  instance.  He  hit  upon  the  fact  that 
the  earth  goes  round  the  sun,  and  it  struck  him  as  im- 
mensely important.  He  gassed  on  about  it  until  every- 
body got  so  tired  of  the  subject  that  the  authorities  had 
to  put  him  in  prison  and  keep  him  there  until  he  said  it 
wasn't  true,  and  that  he'd  stop  writing  books  to  say  it 
was.  As  a  matter  of  fact  it  was  true,  but  it  didn't  matter. 
We'd  all  be  doing  exactly  the  same  things  we  are  doing 
to-day  if  he  had  never  made  his  beastly  telescope.  On 
the  other  hand,  men  who  get  a  hold  of  really  important 
ideas  often  think  very  little  of  them.  Look,  for  example, 
at  the  case  of  the  man  who  first  thought  of  collecting 
a  lot  of  people  together  and  making  them  pass  a  unani- 
mous resolution.  He  didn't  even  take  the  trouble  to 
patent  the  process,  and  now  there's  no  record  left  of  when 
and  where  he  hit  upon  his  idea.  And  yet,  where  would 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  61 

we  all  be  without  unanimous  resolutions?  Doyle  will 
tell  you  that  government  couldn't  be  carried  on  and  civili- 
sation would  practically  become  extinct.  It  may  be  the 
same  with  this  idea  of  yours,  and  I've  no  doubt  that 
I'll  be  able  to  judge  if  you  tell  me  what  it  is." 

"  He  was  thinking,"  said  Doyle,  "  of  having  a  picture 
of  an  apple  tree  in  the  top  left-hand  corner  of  the  address 
with  apples  on  it,  and  the  same  tree  in  the  top  right-hand 
corner  with  no  apples.  He  says  it  would  be  agreeable  to 
the  sergeant." 

"  I  don't  think  much  of  that,"  said  Meldon.  "  It 
strikes  me  as  a  poor  idea,  for  three  reasons.  In  the  first 
place,  you'll  not  be  able  to  get  an  artist  who  can  draw 
the  apple  trees  so  that  any  ordinary  man  could  recognise 
them.  I  know  what  I'm  talking  about,  for  apple  trees 
necessarily  come  a  good  deal  into  ecclesiastical  art,  the 
kind  of  art  I'm  most  familiar  with.  I  give  you  my  word 
that  the  most  of  them  might  as  well  be  elms,  and  I've 
seen  lots  that  look  like  Florence  Court  yews.  As  a 
general  rule,  you  wouldn't  have  a  ghost  of  a  notion  what 
they  were  meant  for  if  it  wasn't  for  Eve  and  the  serpent. 
In  the  next  place,  I  don't  think  the  sergeant  would  care 
for  it.  The  whole  business  must  be  painful  to  him,  and 
he  won't  care  to  be  obliged  every  day  of  his  life  to  be 
staring  at  something  that  would  remind  him  of  Sirryskins. 
In  the  third  place,  it  would  almost  certainly  irritate 
Simpkins  when  he  heard  of  it." 

"  It's  that,"  said  Doyle,  "  that  we  were  hoping  it  might 
do." 

"  Well,  then,  you  may  put  the  idea  out  of  your  heads. 
I  can't  have  Simpkins  irritated  at  present.  It's  of  the 
utmost  possible  importance  that  he  should  be  lulled  into 
a  sense  of  security.  I  can't  deal  with  him  if  his  suspi- 


62  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

cions  are  aroused  in  the  slightest.  I've  been  with  him 
myself  this  morning,  lulling  him." 

"  Were  you,  then  ?  "  said  Doyle. 

"  I  was,  and  I  think  I  may  say  that  for  the  immediate 
present  he's  lulled." 

"  And  how  did  you  like  him?  "  said  Doyle. 

"  My  feelings  don't  matter,"  said  Meldon.  "  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  judging  from  a  single  interview,  I  should 
say  he  was  a  pleasant  enough,  straightforward  sort  of 
man  who  is  trying  to  do  what  is  right." 

"  If  he  tried  less,"  said  Doyle,  "  he'd  get  on  better." 

"  Quite  so.  And  you  mustn't  think  that  I'm  going  to 
allow  my  personal  feelings  to  interfere  with  my  action 
in  the  matter.  The  Major  is  my  friend,  and  I  have  a 
great  regard  for  the  poor  old  rector,  in  spite  of  his  suffer- 
ing from  bronchitis.  Also  I  like  the  people  of  Ballymoy, 
and  I'm  ready  to  help  them  in  any  way  I  can.  So,  what- 
ever opinion  I  have  formed  of  Simpkins,  I'm  going  to 
deal  with  him  precisely  as  if  he  were  my  personal  enemy." 

"  What  do  you  mean  to  do  to  him  ?  "  said  the  doctor. 
"  You  were  speaking  this  minute  of  a  post-mortem." 

"  It  won't  come  to  that,"  said  Meldon,  "  unless  you 
boggle  over  the  death  certificate.  But  the  precise  details 
of  my  scheme  I  must  keep  to  myself  for  the  present, 
merely  saying  that  I  shall  be  severe  with  him." 


CHAPTER  VII 

BALLYMOY  HOUSE,  save  for  the  occasional  pres- 
ence of  a  fishing  tenant,  has  been  unoccupied  for 
years.  Two  men  are  employed  to  keep  the  grounds  tidy, 
and  Mr.  Simpkins  does  his  best  to  see  that  the  work  is 
done.  But  in  spite  of  his  exertions  the  place  is  in  a 
condition  of  disorder.  There  is  long  grass  where  there 
ought  to  be  trim  lawns;  wild  growths  of  brambles  in 
nooks  originally  dedicated  to  rose  gardening;  and  a 
general  air  of  exuberance  about  the  trees  and  shrubs. 
Miss  King  found  all  this  very  charming.  She  took  a 
walk  round  the  pleasure  grounds  on  the  evening  of  her 
arrival,  and  felt  that  she  had  happened  upon  the  Irish 
demesne  of  her  dreams — a  region  of  spacious  dilapi- 
dation, exquisite  natural  beauty,  romantic  possibilities, 
and  an  inexhaustible  supply  of  local  colour ;  a  place  very 
different  indeed  from  the  trim  Thames-side  villas  in 
which  she  generally  spent  her  summer  holidays.  Her 
maid  unpacked  a  large  box  of  requisites  for  the  country 
life  supplied  by  the  Stores,  and  came,  at  the  bottom  of  it, 
upon  a  very  gay  hammock  made  of  green  and  scarlet 
strings.  Miss  King  was  delighted  with  its  appearance, 
and  the  promise  it  gave  of  luxurious  rest.  After  break- 
fast next  morning  she  summoned  the  two  gardeners  to 
her  presence,  and  gave  orders  that  the  hammock  should 

63 


64  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

be  securely  hung  in  a  shady  place.  The  men  were  unac- 
customed to  hammocks,  but  with  the  help  of  some  advice 
from  the  maid,  they  tied  it  to  two  trees  in  a  corner  of 
what  had  once  been  a  tennis  court.  They  were  so  pleased 
with  it  that  they  stood  looking  at  it  with  great  apprecia- 
tion until  Miss  King  came  out  at  about  twelve  o'clock. 
She  brought  with  her  a  bundle  of  manuscript  and  a 
fountain  pen,  intending  to  work  into  her  new  novel  a 
description  of  Ballymoy  House  and  the  demesne. 

The  men  watched  her  settle  herself,  and  then  came 
forward  cautiously  and  asked  if  there  was  anything  they 
could  do  for  her.  Miss  King  suggested  that  they  should 
go  away  and  do  their  work.  They  went  obediently,  but 
returned  in  a  few  minutes  with  two  scythes. 

"  If  it's  pleasing  to  your  ladyship,"  said  the  elder  of 
the  two,  "  I  was  thinking  of  cutting  the  grass  beyond, 
while  the  weather's  fine,  and  we'd  have  a  chance  of 
getting  the  hay  saved  without  rain." 

Miss  King  was  not  very  well  pleased.  She  would 
have  preferred  to  be  left  alone,  in  order  that  she  might 
enjoy  thoroughly  the  picturesque  dilapidation  she  wished 
to  describe.  But  she  did  not  see  her  way  to  forbid  the 
cutting  of  the  grass.  The  two  men  sharpened  their 
scythes  noisily  and  mowed  down  several  swathes  of  long 
grass.  Miss  King  watched  them,  mildly  interested.  At 
the  end  of  five  minutes  they  stopped  mowing  and  whetted 
their  scythes  again.  Then  they  sat  down,  lit  their  pipes, 
and  looked  at  Miss  King.  She  busied  herself  with  her 
papers,  and  made  some  corrections  with  the  fountain  pen. 
When  their  pipes  were  about  half  smoked,  the  men  rose, 
whetted  their  scythes  for  the  third  time,  and  mowed  again. 
Miss  King  stopped  writing  and  watched  them.  The  day 
grew  hotter,  and  the  spells  of  mowing  became  shorter. 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  65 

Miss  King  gave  up  the  attempt  to  write,  and  lay  dreamily 
gazing  at  the  men,  roused  to  active  consciousness  now 
and  then  by  the  rasp  of  the  hones  against  the  scythe 
blades.  At  one  o'clock  the  men,  guessing  it  to  be  dinner- 
time, stopped  pretending  to  work  and  went  away.  A  few 
minutes  later  Miss  King,  feeling  the  need  of  luncheon, 
disentangled  herself  from  the  hammock,  bundled  her 
papers  together,  and  went  into  the  house. 

At  two  o'clock  the  men,  carrying  their  scythes,  returned 
to  the  tennis  court,  which  was  nearly  half  mowed.  At 
half -past  two  Miss  King  joined  them,  and  climbed  as 
gracefully  as  she  could  into  the  hammock.  She  brought 
a  book  with  her  this  time  instead  of  her  manuscript.  The 
afternoon  was  hotter  than  the  morning  had  been,  and 
there  was  a  very  soothing  sound  of  bees  among  the 
branches  of  the  trees.  Miss  King,  who  had  eaten  her 
luncheon  with  a  good  appetite,  went  to  sleep.  The 
two  gardeners,  after  a  short  consultation,  sat  down 
under  a  tree  and  smoked.  At  half-past  three  Meldon 
arrived. 

"  You  seem,"  he  said  to  the  men,  "  to  be  taking  things 
pretty  easy.  Are  you  supposed  to  be  mowing  that  lawn, 
or  is  Mr.  Simpkins  paying  you  to  cut  the  legs  off  any 
tiger  or  other  wild  beast  that  comes  up  with  the  idea 
of  devouring  Miss  King  in  her  sleep  ?  " 

The  men  grinned  pleasantly,  and  put  their  pipes  in 
their  pockets. 

"  It's  how  we  didn't  like  to  be  disturbing  the  young 
lady,"  said  the  elder  of  the  two  men,  "  and  her  lying 
there  quiet  and  innocent,  maybe  tired  out,  the  creature, 
with  the  way  she's  been  travelling  to  and  fro." 

"  Isn't  it  Callaghan  your  name  is  ?  "  said  Meldon. 

"  It  is.     Glory  be  to  God !  but  it's  wonderful  the  way 


66  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

you'd  know  me,  Mr.  Meldon,  and  you  out  of  the  place 
these  three  years." 

"  Send  that  other  man  away,"  said  Meldon,  "  and 
listen  to  me  while  I  speak  to  you." 

"  Mickey,"  said  Callaghan  to  his  fellow-labourer,  "  let 
you  be  off  with  you  and  get  the  potatoes  earthed  up 
beyond  in  the  garden.  It's  wonderful,  so  it  is,  the  way 
you'd  take  a  delight  in  sitting  there  all  day  and  not  doing 
a  hand's  turn." 

Mickey  went  off,  still  grinning.  He  had  no  intention 
of  earthing  up  the  potatoes.  Digging  is  hard  work,  not 
to  be  lightly  undertaken  on  a  hot  afternoon.  Meldon 
watched  him  out  of  sight,  and  then  turned  to  Callaghan. 

"  I'm  speaking  confidentially  to  you,"  he  said,  "  and 
I  hope  that  nothing  I  say  will — " 

"  Take  care,"  said  Callaghan,  "  that  you  wouldn't  wake 
herself,  talking  so  loud  and  all." 

Meldon  looked  at  Miss  King. 

"  She  seems  pretty  sound,"  he  said,  speaking  more 
softly. 

"  It's  tired  she  is,  the  creature,"  said  Callaghan.  "  It 
would  be  a  shame  to  wake  her,  though  I  wouldn't  care 
myself  for  the  notion  of  sleeping  in  one  of  them  new- 
fashioned  beds." 

"  What  I  want  to  say  to  you  is  this,"  said  Meldon. 
"  You  know  Mr.  Simpkins,  of  course  ?  " 

"  I  do." 

"  Is  he  a  particular  friend  of  yours  ?  " 

"  He  is  not,"  said  Callaghan.  "  The  Lord  forgive  me 
for  saying  the  like!  but  I  hate  him  worse  than  I  do  the 
devil." 

"  I  thought  you  probably  would,"  said  Meldon,  "  and  I 
don't  wonder  at  it.  Any  man  who  works  the  sort  of  way 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  67 

you  were  working  when  I  arrived  would  be  pretty  sure 
to  hate  Simpkins." 

"  Since  ever  he  come  to  the  place,"  said  Callaghan, 
"  there's  been  neither  peace  nor  quiet  in  it.  There  doesn't 
a  day  pass  but  he's  up  here  asking  why  this  isn't  done,  and 
what's  the  matter  with  the  other  thing,  and  whether  I 
couldn't  manage  to  settle  up  some  contraption  or  other. 
Many's  the  time  I've  said  to  myself  it  would  be  better 
for  me  to  starve  out  on  the  bog  beyond  than  to  have  the 
life  plagued  out  of  me  listening  to  the  way  he  does  be 
talking." 

"  I  expect,"  said  Meldon,  "  that  he's  simply  trying  to 
make  you  do  your  work,  and  a  hard  job  he  has  of  it." 

"Any  way,  it's  what  I'm  not  accustomed  to ;  and  what's 
more,  won't  stand." 

"  You'll  have  to  stand  it  for  a  while  more,  any  way. 
That's  what  I  want  to  impress  on  your  mind.  I  can't 
have  a  word  said  against  Mr.  Simpkins  in  the  presence  of 
Miss  King." 

"  The  young  lady  there  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that  exact  young  lady.  She's  a  stranger  in  these 
parts,  and  you're  more  or  less  responsible  for  the  opinions 
she  forms  of  the  people  she  comes  across.  It's  to  you 
she'll  be  looking  for  guidance  when  she's  in  a  difficulty 
and  wants  information  about  any  one." 

"  She  will,  of  course.  Why  wouldn't  she  ?  Amn't  I 
old  enough  to  be  her  father  and  the  father  of  a  dozen 
more  like  her?" 

"  Exactly,"  said  Meldon.  "  So  when  she  consults  you 
about  Mr.  Simpkins  you'll  say  all  the  good  you  can  of 
him,  and  you'll  praise  him  up  to  the  servants  in  the  house 
in  such  a  way  that  they'll  repeat  what  you've  said  to  her." 

"  Would  you  have  me  tell  what  isn't  true  ?  " 


68  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  I  would." 

"  Well,  then,  I'll  not  do  it.  I've  more  respect  for  my- 
self, let  alone  the  young  lady,  than  to  do  the  like." 

"  Don't  take  that  tone  with  me,"  said  Meldon,  "  for 
I'll  not  stand  it.  There  isn't  a  man  in  Ireland  this  minute 
that  has  a  greater  respect  for  the  truth  than  I  have.  It's 
a  good  thing — one  of  the  best  things  there  is — in  its 
proper  place.  But  there's  no  bigger  mistake  than  to  sup- 
pose that  because  a  thing  is  good  in  one  place  at  one 
time,  it  must  necessarily  be  good  everywhere  and  always. 
Take  the  case  of  bottled  porter.  You're  not  a  teetotaller, 
are  you  ?  " 

"  I  was  one  time,"  said  Callaghan,  "  after  the  mission 
there  did  be  going  round  the  country  last  spring.  They 
had  me  pledged  before  I  rightly  understood  what  it  was 
they  were  doing ;  but,  thanks  be  to  God,  I'm  through  with 
it  now,  and  can  take  a  drop  of  drink  as  well  as  another." 

"  Very  well.  Then  you'll  appreciate  what  I  say  about 
bottled  porter.  It's  a  good  thing  when  you  have  it  in  a 
tumbler,  and  the  tumbler  in  your  hand,  and  you  thirsty." 

"  It  is."  Callaghan  spoke  with  convicticn.  He  was 
thirsty  at  the  moment,  and  he  had  some  hope  that  Meldon 
might  possibly  have  the  bottle  of  which  he  spoke  in  his 
pocket.  He  was  disappointed  when  Meldon  went  on  with 
his  speech. 

"  But  it's  not  a  good  thing  when  somebody  jogs  your 
elbow  and  spills  the  whole  of  it  over  the  legs  of  your 
trousers.  Now  it's  exactly  the  same  with  truth.  It's  all 
right  under  certain  circumstances.  It's  one  of  the  worst 
things  going  when  it's  told  to  the  wrong  man  at  the  wrong 
time.  You  follow  me  so  far,  I  hope.  Very  well.  Now 
I  want  to  make  it  plain  to  you  that  the  truth  about  Mr. 
Simpkins  must  not  be  told  to  Miss  King.  I  expect  he'll 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  69 

be  up  to  call  on  her  to-morrow  or  next  day,  and  it's  most 
important  that  she  should  not  be  prejudiced  against  him." 

"  Have  you  a  match  made  up  between  them  ? "  asked 
Callaghan. 

"  I  have." 

"  And  why  couldn't  you  have  said  so  before  ?  If  that's 
the  way  of  it,  it  isn't  likely  I'd  be  saying  a  word  that 
would  turn  her  against  the  man  that's  laid  down  for  her 
to  marry.  There  was  a  friend  of  my  own  one  time  that 
had  a  match  made  up  for  his  son  with  a  girl  that  had  a 
good  fortune.  But  there  was  only  one  leg  on  her,  and 
he  was  terrible  feared  that  the  boy'd  never  take  her  if 
he  found  it  out.  There  wasn't  one  in  the  place,  only 
myself,  that  knew  the  way  the  girl  was  on  account  of  her 
father  living  away  beyond  the  bog.  Do  you  think  I  said 
the  word?  I  did  not.  And  the  boy  was  well  enough 
pleased  at  the  latter  end." 

"  In  this  particular  case,"  said  Meldon,  "  you'll  have 
to  do  rather  more  than  keep  your  mouth  shut.  Simpkins' 
legs  are  all  right,  of  course,  but — 

"  He  has  the  divil  of  a  long  tongue." 

"  Well,  don't  dwell  on  his  tongue  when  you're  talking 
about  him  to  Miss  King." 

"  Beyond  saying  an  odd  time  that  he's  a  pleasant- 
spoken  gentleman,  I  will  not." 

"  That's  right,"  said  Meldon.  "  I  shall  rely  absolutely 
on  you.  And  you  are  to  let  me  know  from  time  to  time 
how  they  get  on  together  when  he  comes  up  here  to  visit 
her." 

"  If  there's  any  impropriety  of  conduct  between  them," 
said  Callaghan,  "  I'll  speak  to  your  reverence." 

"  Don't  misunderstand  me,"  said  Meldon.  "  I  don't 
want  to  interfere  with  their  love-making.  The  more  of 


70  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

that  they  do,  the  better  I'll  be  pleased.  Even  if  they  run 
rather  into  extremes — " 

"  It's  what  I  won't  be  a  party  to,"  said  Callaghan.  "  I 
don't  hold  with  them  ways,  and  the  clergy  is  against  them, 
all  but  yourself;  and  you  ought  to  be  ashamed  to  be 
encouraging  the  like." 

"  You  don't  in  the  least  understand  the  situation,"  said 
Meldon.  "  Mr.  Simpkins  and  Miss  King  are  both 
English,  and  in  England  they  manage  these  things  quite 
differently  from  the  way  we  do  here." 

"  Well,  it's  yourself  ought  to  know  about  that,  seeing 
that  you're  a  Protestant." 

"  It's  not  so  much  a  question  of  religion,"  said  Meldon. 
"  It's  temperament.  I  don't  suppose  you  understand 
what  that  means ;  but  the  fact  is,  that  an  Englishwoman 
wouldn't  marry  a  man  who  hadn't  been  making  love  to 
her  off  and  on  for  at  least  a  week.  If  he  hadn't  got  her 
thoroughly  accustomed  to  his  occasionally  squeezing  her 
hand,  and  offering  to  pick  flowers  for  her,  and  picking  up 
anything  she  dropped  about,  and —  But  I  needn't  go 
into  details.  The  fact  is,  that  if  he  hadn't  made  love 
to  her  pretty  violently,  she  wouldn't  consider  it  decent 
to  marry  him.  That's  the  sort  of  people  the  English 
are." 

"  They're  queer,"  said  Callaghan,  "  and  that's  a  fact." 

"  They  are,"  said  Meldon.  "  But  we've  simply  got  to 
take  them  as  we  find  them.  There's  no  use  our  trying 
to  teach  them  better  ways,  for  they  wouldn't  listen  to  us. 
I'm  telling  you  all  this  so  that  you  won't  be  shocked  if 
you  happen  to  see  Simpkins  kissing  Miss  King.  It's  no 
affair  of  yours,  to  start  with;  and,  in  the  second  place, 
there's  no  point  in  comparative  ethnology  so  firmly 
established  as  the  fact  that  morality  is  quite  a  different 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  71 

thing  among  different  peoples.  What  would  be  wrong 
for  you  and  me  may  be,  and  is,  perfectly  right  for  Miss 
King  and  Simpkins.  I  needn't  go  into  that  more  fully. 
All  you  have  to  do  is  to  crack  up  Simpkins  as  a  first- 
rate  sort  of  man  that  any  girl  would  be  lucky  if  she 
married ;  and  then  let  me  know  how  they  hit  it  off  together 
when  they  meet." 

"  I'll  do  it.  I'd  do  more  than  that  to  oblige  your  rev- 
erence in  the  matter  of  making  a  match  for  any  boy  about 
the  place ;  for  I'm  not  one  to  spoil  his  chances  on  a  boy, 
not  if  I  hated  him  worse  than  I  do  Simpkins." 

"  Very  well.  Now  I  want  to  speak  a  few  words  to 
Miss  King,  but  it  won't  do  for  me  to  wake  her  up.  She 
wouldn't  like  it ;  and  what's  more,  she  might  suspect  that 
we'd  been  talking  together  about  her.  I'll  go  back  to  the 
house  and  walk  over  here  across  the  lawn.  I'll  signal 
to  you  as  soon  as  I'm  ready  to  start,  and  then  you  go 
over  and  wake  Miss  King." 

"  I  wouldn't  like  to  do  it.  I'd  be  ashamed,  for  fear 
she  might  think  I  was  taking  a  liberty." 

"  I  don't  want  you  to  go  and  shake  her,"  said  Mel- 
don,  "  or  pour  cold  water  over  her,  or  anything  of  that 
sort.  Just  take  your  scythe  over  close  to  where  she  is, 
and  as  soon  as  ever  I  give  the  signal,  you  begin  to  scrape 
the  blade  of  it  with  your  stone  and  whistle  a  tune  at  the 
same  time  as  loud  as  you  can." 

"  '  The  Wearing  of  the  Green,'  or  the  like?  " 

"  Not  '  The  Wearing  of  the  Green.'  It's  a  melancholy, 
soothing  sort  of  tune  which  would  probably  only  make 
her  sleep  sounder.  Whistle  a  good  lively  jig." 

"  I  will,"  said  Callaghan. 

Meldon  walked  away.  When  he  reached  the  house 
he  stood  on  the  top  step  of  the  flight  which  leads  to  the 


72  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

hall  door  and  waved  his  pocket  handkerchief.  Callaghan 
picked  up  his  scythe  cautiously,  and  went  on  tip-toe  across 
to  Miss  King's  hammock.  He  did  not  wish  to  disturb 
her  prematurely.  Then,  his  hone  in  one  hand  and  his 
scythe  in  the  other,  he  stood  and  watched  Meldon.  The 
handkerchief  waved  again,  and  Meldon  started  walking 
briskly  across  the  lawn.  The  hone  rasped  harshly  against 
the  scythe  blade,  and  "  The  Irish  Washerwoman  "  rang 
out  shrilly.  Miss  King  woke  with  a  start.  Callaghan 
turned  away  from  her,  and  still  whistling  vigorously,  be- 
gan to  mow.  Meldon  hurried  forward. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Miss  King  ? "  he  said.  "  I  hap- 
pened to  be  passing  the  gate  and  I  just  called  in  to  see 
how  you  are  getting  on,  and  to  see  whether  there  is  any- 
thing I  can  do  for  you." 

Miss  King  blinked,  got  her  feet  out  of  the  hammock, 
sat  up,  and  shook  hands  with  Meldon. 

"  It's  very  kind  of  you.  Won't  you  come  inside  and 
have  some  tea,  or  shall  I  get  them  to  bring  it  out  here  ?  " 

"  No,  thanks.  No  tea  for  me.  I  haven't  time  to  stay ; 
and  besides,  I've  had  luncheon  with  Mr.  Doyle.  You 
know  what  that  means." 

"  No,"  said  Miss  King.    "  I  don't." 

"  Well,  I  needn't  go  into  details,"  said  Meldon ;  "  but 
as  a  matter  of  fact  when  you've  lunched  with  Mr.  Doyle 
you  don't  want  anything  more  to  drink  for  a  long  time. 
By  the  way,  you're  not  looking  out  for  a  cook  just  at 
present,  are  you  ?  " 

"  No,  I'm  not.     What  made  you  think  I  was  ?  " 

"  People  generally  are,"  said  Meldon.  "  In  fact,  I've 
hardly  ever  met  any  one  who  wasn't.  I  happen  just  now 
to  know  of  a  really  excellent  girl,  called  Sabina.  With 
a  little  training  she'd  make  a  first-rate  cook.  She's  first 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  73 

cousin  to  the  red-haired  girl  who's  with  Mr.  Simpkins. 
That's  a  recommendation  in  itself." 

"Is  it?  Who  is  Mr.  Simpkins?  Oh,  of  course,  he's 
the  man  from  whom  I  took  the  house." 

"  A  capital  fellow,"  said  Meldon ;  "  young,  strong,  and 
vigorous.  The  sort  of  man,"  he  sank  his  voice  im- 
pressively, "  that  it  would  take  a  lot  to  kill." 

Miss  King  seemed  moderately  interested. 

"  But  why  do  you  think,"  she  said,  "  that  his  servant's 
first  cousin — " 

"  Sabina  is  her  name,"  said  Meldon.  "  It's  a  very  at- 
tractive name,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  Yes.  But  why  do  you  think  it  likely  that  Mr.  Simp- 
kins'  servant's  first  cousin  can  cook  ?  " 

"  He's  a  most  particular  man,"  said  Meldon ;  "  fidgety 
to  a  degree  about  having  everything  quite  right,  always 
worrying  the  life  out  of  his  servants,  which  is  excellent 
for  them,  of  course ;  but,  well,  if  he  was  married  " — he 
sank  his  voice  again — "  I  expect  his  wife  would  consider 
herself  quite  justified  in  killing  him.  I  daresay  he'll  be 
up  to  call  on  you  this  afternoon." 

"  If  he's  as  bad  as  that,"  said  Miss  King,  "  I  had  bet- 
ter go  in  and  tidy  my  hair  before  he  comes." 

"  Perhaps  you  had,"  said  Meldon. 

"  You're  very  rude,"  said  Miss  King. 

She  smiled  as  she  spoke,  blushed  slightly,  and  then 
looking  at  Meldon  from  under  her  eyelashes,  said : 

"  Come  now,  tell  me  the  truth.  Am  I  an  absolute 
fright?" 

Most  men  would  have  attempted  a  pretty  speech  of 
some  sort.  Many  men  would  have  responded  to  Miss 
King's  eyes  with  a  glance  of  admiration.  She  had  very 
fine  eyes,  and  a  singularly  attractive  way  of  looking  out 


74  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

of  the  comers  of  them.  Miss  King  was,  in  fact,  a  little 
tired  of  her  own  company,  and  would  have  liked  to  hear 
Meldon  say  something  pleasant  about  her  appearance. 
She  would  have  enjoyed  herself  very  well  if  he  had  at- 
tempted some  slight  flirtation  with  her.  But  he  snubbed 
her  severely. 

"  I  told  you  yesterday,"  he  said,  "  that  I'm  a  married 
man.  I  have  a  daughter  two  years  old,  and  I'm  a  clergy- 
man. I  really  can't  allow  you — " 

The  soft  look  vanished  in  an  instant  from  Miss  King's 
eyes.  They  flashed  fiercely.  Her  face  became  suddenly 
crimson. 

"  You  are  outrageous,"  she  said.  "  How  dare  you  sug- 
gest—  ?  How  dare  you  even  think —  ?  " 

She  sprang  to  her  feet  and  started  at  a  rapid  pace 
towards  the  house.  Her  head  was  poised  defiantly. 
Meldon,  though  he  could  only  see  her  back,  felt  certain 
that  her  chin  was  in  the  air.  Callaghan,  who  had  retired 
with  his  scythe  to  the  middle  of  the  lawn,  stopped  mow- 
ing and  stared  after  Miss  King.  Then  he  laid  down  his 
scythe  and  approached  Meldon. 

"  Were  you  telling  her,"  he  asked,  "  of  the  match  you 
had  laid  out  for  her  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Meldon,  with  a  broad  smile,  "  I  wasn't." 

"  From  the  look  of  her,"  said  Callaghan,  "  I  thought 
maybe  you  might." 

"  Well,  I  wasn't.  All  I  was  trying  to  make  plain  to 
her  was  that  she  couldn't  marry  me." 

"  I'd  say,"  said  Callaghan,  "  that  she  seen  that  plain 
enough,  however  it  was  that  you  put  it  to  her." 

"  I  thought  it  better  to  make  it  quite  clear  at  once," 
said  Meldon.  "  She  was  looking  at  me  in  a  kind  of  way 
you'd  hardly  understand." 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  75 

"  I  might,  then,"  said  Callaghan,  still  grinning. 

"  You  would  not,"  said  Meldon.  "  You  told  'me  a  mo- 
ment ago  that  the  priests  wouldn't  let  you ! " 

"  There's  many  a  thing,"  said  Callaghan,  "  that  the 
clergy  might  not  approve  of,  but — " 

"  Any  how,"  said  Meldon,  "  it  was  that  kind  of  way 
she  looked  at  me,  and  I  thought  it  better  to  put  a  stop  to 
it  at  once." 

"  You're  right  there ;  and  it's  no  more  than  what  I'd 
expect  of  you." 

"  I  don't  think  you  quite  grasp  my  point  yet,"  said  Mel- 
don. "  In  a  general  way  I  shouldn't  mind  her  looking 
at  me  any  way  she  liked.  I  might  have  enjoyed  it,  if 
she'd  done  it  well,  as  I  expect  she  could.  But  under  the 
existing  circumstances  I  had  to  stop  her;  because,  if  she 
took  to  looking  at  me  like  that,  she'd  look  quite  another 
way  at  Mr.  Simpkins,  and  then  he  wouldn't  be  inclined 
to  marry  her." 

"  You're  dead  set  on  that  match,"  said  Callaghan. 

"  I  am.     It's  most  important  that  it  should  come  off." 

"  She's  a  fine  girl,"  said  Callaghan.  "  She's  too  good 
for  the  like  of  Simpkins.  He'll  be  tormenting  her  the 
way  he  does  be  tormenting  everybody  about  the  place." 

"  Believe  you  me,"  said  Meldon,  "  she'll  know  how  to 
manage  him." 

"  She  might,"  said  Callaghan.  "  By  the  looks  of  her, 
when  she  left  you  this  minute,  I  wouldn't  say  but  she 
might." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

FOR  two  days  the  Major  enjoyed  unbroken  tran- 
quillity. Meldon,  having  settled  the  affairs  of 
Simpkins  and  Miss  King  to  his  satisfaction,  agreed  to  go 
for  a  cruise  in  the  Spindrift.  It  was  only  on  the  evening 
of  the  second  day,  when  the  yacht  was  heading  for  her 
moorings,  that  he  returned  to  the  subject  which  the  Ma- 
jor hoped  had  been  forgotten. 

The  wind,  which  had  come  fresh  from  the  east  in  the 
morning,  followed  the  sun  round  in  its  course,  blowing 
gently  from  the  south  at  mid-day,  and  breathing  very 
faintly  from  the  west  in  the  evening.  After  sunset  it 
died  away  completely.  The  whole  surface  of  the  bay  lay 
calm,  save  here  and  there  where  some  chance  movement 
of  the  air  ruffled  a  tiny  patch  of  water ;  or  where,  at  the 
corners  of  the  islands  and  in  very  narrow  channels,  the 
inward  drawing  of  the  tide  marked  long,  curved  lines 
and  illusive  circles  on  the  oily  sea.  The  Spindrift  was 
poised  motionless  on  the  surface  of  the  water,  borne 
slowly,  almost  imperceptibly,  forward  by  the  sweep  of 
the  tide.  Her  mainsail,  boomed  out,  hung  in  loose  folds. 
The  sheet,  freed  from  all  strain,  was  borne  down  by  its 
own  weight,  until  the  slack  of  it  dipped  in  the  water. 
Terns  and  gulls,  at  lazy  rest,  floated  close  to  the  yacht's 
side.  Long  rows  of  dark  cormorants,  perched  on  rocky 

76 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  77 

points,  strained  their  necks  and  peered  at  her.  Innumer- 
able jelly-fish  spread  and  sucked  together  again  their 
transparent  bodies,  reaching  down  and  round  about  them 
with  purple  feelers.  Now  and  then  some  almost  imper- 
ceptible breath  of  wind  swayed  the  yacht's  boom  slowly 
forward  against  the  loose  runner  and  the  stay,  lifted  the 
dripping  sheet  from  the  water,  and  half  bellied  the  sail. 
Then  the  Spindrift  would  press  forward,  her  spars  creak- 
ing slightly,  tiny  ripples  playing  round  her  bows,  a  double 
line  of  oily  bubbles  in  her  wake.  Again  the  impulse 
would  fail  her,  and  she  would  lie  still  among  the  palpi- 
tating jelly-fish,  perfectly  reflected  in  the  water  beneath 
her;  but  carried  steadily  on  by  the  silent  shoreward 
swelling  of  the  tide. 

Major  Kent  sat  at  the  tiller  smoking.  He  was  in  that 
mood  of  vacant  obliviousness  of  the  ordinary  affairs  of 
life  which  long  drifting  on  calm  seas  induces.  The  help- 
lessness of  man  in  a  sailing-ship,  when  the  wind  fails 
him,  begets  a  kind  of  fatalistic  acceptance  of  the  inevi- 
table, which  is  the  nearest  thing  to  peace  that  any  of  us 
ever  attain.  Indeed  to  drift  along  the  tide  is  peace,  and 
no  conviction  of  the  inevitableness  of  the  worries  which 
lurk  in  ambush  for  us  on  the  land  has  any  power  to 
break  the  spell. 

Meldon  lay  stretched  on  the  deck  outside  the  combing 
of  the  cockpit.  Nirvana  had  no  attraction  for  him.  He 
resented  forced  inactivity  as  an  unendurable  wrong.  In- 
stead of  smoking  with  half -closed  eyes,  he  peered  eagerly 
forward  under  the  sail.  He  noted  everything — the  float- 
ing gulls  and  puffins,  the  stiff,  wild-eyed  cormorants,  the 
jelly-fish,  the  whirling  eddies  of  the  tide.  As  the  yacht 
drifted  on,  or  was  driven  forward  by  the  occasional  faint 
puffs  of  air,  he  hissed  through  his  teeth  in  the  way  known 


78  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

to  sailors  as  whistling  for  a  breeze.  He  gazed  long  and 
steadily  at  the  beach  beyond  the  Spindrift's  moorings. 

"  I  think,"  he  said  at  last,  "  that  there  is  a  man  on  the 
shore,  and  he  looks  to  me  very  much  as  if  he  was  wait- 
ing for  us." 

Major  Kent  made  no  answer.  His  feeling  was  that 
the  man  who  waited  might  be  left  to  wait  without  specu- 
lation about  his  purpose.  Guessing  at  the  possible  busi- 
ness of  an  unknown  and  distant  man  is  a  form  of  mental 
exertion  very  distasteful  to  any  one  who  has  entered  into 
the  calm  joy  of  drifting  home  after  sunset.  But  Meldon 
was  a  man  of  incurably  active  mind.  He  was  deeply 
interested  in  the  solitary  figure  on  the  beach.  The  yacht 
was  borne  very  slowly  on,  and  it  became  possible  at  last 
to  distinguish  the  figure  of  the  waiter  more  clearly. 

"  He  looks  to  me,"  said  Meldon  a  few  minutes  later, 
"  very  like  that  fellow  Callaghan,  the  Ballymoy  House 
gardener." 

There  was  another  pause.  A  puff  of  wind,  the  last 
vital  rally  of  the  expiring  breeze,  carried  the  Spindrift 
forward  till  the  punt  at  her  moorings  lay  almost  under 
her  bow. 

"  It  is  Callaghan,"  said  Meldon,  "  and  there's  only  one 
thing  which  can  possibly  bring  him  here  at  this  hour. 
Something  of  real  importance  must  have  happened  be- 
tween Simpkins  and  Miss  King.  I  wonder  what  it  is." 

"  Catch  the  punt,  J.  J.,  and  haul  her  aft  till  you  get 
a  hold  of  the  buoy.  If  we  drift  past  we'll  never  get  back 
again.  There's  barely  steerage  way  on  the  boat  this 
minute." 

Meldon  stepped  forward.  There  was  a  noise  of  strain- 
ing ropes  and  splashing.  Then  he  stood  upright  and 
pulled  the  buoy  on  board. 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  79 

"  Unless  something  exceptionally  interesting  has  oc- 
curred," said  Meldon,  "  I  can't  understand  Callaghan 
waiting  for  us  like  this.  Perhaps  they've  got  engaged." 

"  Nonsense,"  said  the  Major ;  "  how  could  they  in  two 
days?  Take  a  pull  on  the  topping  lift,  and  then  let  go 
the  peak  halyards." 

The  sail  came  slowly  down.  Major  Kent  and  Meldon 
leaned  across  the  gaff  and  dragged  at  the  folds  of  it. 
Callaghan  hailed  the  yacht  from  the  shore. 

"  Hold  on,"  said  Meldon.  "  Keep  what  you've  got  to 
say  till  I  come  to  you.  I  can't  have  the  details  of  an 
interesting  love  affair  shouted  across  a  stretch  of  water." 

The  sails  were  made  up  and  the  yacht  safely  moored. 
Meldon  hustled  Major  Kent  into  the  punt,  and  pulled 
rapidly  for  the  beach.  The  punt's  keel  grated  on  the 
gravel.  Meldon  seized  the  painter  in  his  hand  and  leaped 
ashore. 

"  Now,"  he  said  to  Callaghan,  "  trot  out  your  news. 
Have  they  got  engaged  ?  " 

"  They  have  not,"  said  Callaghan. 

"  Then  I  suppose  there  must  have  been  what  you  call 
impropriety  of  conduct.  If  so — " 

"  There  has  not,"  said  Callaghan. 

"  That's  just  as  well ;  for  if  there  had  been,  I  should 
have  had  to  ask  you  to  wait  before  giving  me  details 
until  the  Major  had  gone  a  good  bit  of  the  way  home. 
He's  an  unmarried  man,  and  I  don't  think  it  would  be 
good  for  him  to — " 

"  There  was  no  impropriety  of  conduct  that  I  seen," 
said  Callaghan. 

"  Well,  it  can't  be  helped.  I  should  have  been  glad, 
of  course,  to  hear  that  Simpkins  had  been  pushing  his 
way  on  a  bit,  holding  her  hand  or  something  of  that  kind. 


80  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

I  suppose,  now,  if  anything  of  the  sort  occurred  you'd 
be  sure  to  have  seen  it." 

"  Don't  I  tell  you  there  wasn't,"  said  Callaghan ;  "  nor 
there  couldn't  have  been,  for  Simpkins  wasn't  near  the 
place  since  the  afternoon  you  was  in  it  yourself." 

"What!     Do  you  mean  to  say — ?" 

"  He  was  in  it  the  once,"  said  Callaghan,  "  not  long 
after  you  leaving,  and  barring  that  she  gave  him  a  cup 
of  tea  there  was  nothing  passed  between  them,  and  I 
wouldn't  say  he  was  there  half  an  hour." 

"Do  you  hear  that,  Major?  That  silly  ass  Simpkins 
has  actually  flung  away  a  priceless  opportunity.  He 
hasn't  been  near  her." 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  it,"  said  Major  Kent.  "  Perhaps 
now  you'll  stop  your  foolish  games." 

"  Could  she  have  gone  out  to  meet  him  anywhere  ?  " 
said  Meldon  to  Callaghan. 

"  She  could  not.  It  wouldn't  be  possible  for  her  to  do 
the  like  unbeknown  to  me,  for  I  had  my  eye  on  her." 

"All  day?" 

"  After  what  your  reverence  was  saying  to  me  I'd  have 
been  afraid  to  let  her  out  of  my  sight." 

"  Very  well,  Callaghan,  you  can  go  home.  I  shall  have 
to  think  the  matter  over.  I  don't  deny  that  I'm  disap- 
pointed. I  thought  when  I  saw  you  standing  there  on 
the  shore  that  you'd  have  had  some  definite  news  for 
me." 

"  I  was  up  at  the  Major's  house  searching  for  you," 
said  Callaghan,  "  and  when  you  weren't  within  I  took 
a  look  round  and  I  seen  the  yacht  coming  in  on  the  tide, 
so  I  thought  it  would  save  me  a  journey  to-morrow  if 
I  waited  for  you." 

"  Quite   right,"    said    Meldon.     "  It's   not   your    fault 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  81 

nothing  has  happened,  and  I  don't  blame  you  in  the  least. 
Good-night." 

Callaghan  shambled  off  along  the  beach.  The  Major 
and  Meldon,  who  carried  the  punt's  oars,  struck  across 
the  fields  towards  Portsmouth  Lodge. 

"  I  can't  understand  it  at  all,"  said  Meldon.  "  After 
what  I  said  to  Simpkins  I  simply  can't  understand  his 
neglecting  his  opportunities  like  this.  You'd  think  from 
the  way  he's  behaving  that  he  doesn't  want  to  be  married 
at  all." 

"  Perhaps  he  doesn't,"  said  the  Major.  "  Any  way, 
you  can  do  no  more  than  you've  done.  You  may  as  well 
drop  it  now,  and  have  the  rest  of  your  holiday  in  peace." 

"  The  fact  is,"  said  Meldon,  "  I  ought  not  to  have  gone 
away  and  left  them.  I  had  no  business  to  take  that 
cruise  in  the  Spindrift.  If  I'd  been  here — " 

"  I  don't  see  what  you  could  have  done.  If  the  fellow 
doesn't  want  the  girl,  how  could  you  force  him  to  go  and 
marry  her?  Any  way,  it's  a  good  job  for  Miss  King 
that  he  hasn't." 

"  If  I'd  been  here — "  said  Meldon,  and  then  paused. 

"  What  would  you  have  done  ?  " 

"  I'd  have  done  what  I'm  going  to  do  now  that  I'm 
back." 

"And  what's  that?" 

"  Throw  them  together,"  said  Meldon.  "  Insist  on  his 
being  constantly  with  her  until  he  begins  to  appreciate 
her  charm.  I  defy  any  one,  any  one  who's  not  already 
married,  to  resist  Miss  King  if  she  looks  at  him  out  of  the 
corners  of  her  eyes  as  she  did  at  me  the  other  day." 

"  She  won't  do  that,"  said  the  Major.  "  No  woman 
would,  once  she  had  seen  Simpkins." 

"  Oh,  she'll  do  it  all  right.     Don't  you  fret  about  that. 


82  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

All  I  have  to  do  is  to  give  her  a  proper  opportunity  by 
throwing  them  together  a  bit." 

"  I  don't  quite  see  how  you're  going  to  do  that  if  Simp- 
kins  won't  go  near  her." 

"  You  wouldn't  see,  of  course.  Indeed  you  couldn't, 
because  I  don't  quite  know  myself  yet  how  it  is  to  be 
managed.  I  shall  have  to  think  it  all  over  very  care- 
fully. I  may  have  to  spend  the  greater  part  of  the  night 
considering  the  matter;  but  one  thing  you  may  be  quite 
confident  about,  Major,  and  that  is  that  when  I  say  they 
are  to  be  thrown  together,  they  will  be  thrown  together. 
I  shall  make  such  arrangements  that  Simpkins  simply 
won't  be  able  to  escape,  however  hard  he  tries." 

Meldon  was  not  obliged  to  spend  a  sleepless  night  de- 
vising meetings  between  Simpkins  and  Miss  King.  He 
put  the  oars  into  the  coach-house  as  soon  as  he  reached 
Portsmouth  Lodge,  and  then  settled  down  with  a  pipe 
on  a  hammock-chair  outside  the  door.  He  was  ready 
with  a  practical  suggestion  by  the  time  Major  Kent  had 
finished  dressing  for  dinner.  Being  too  wise  to  propose 
a  difficult  matter  to  a  hungry  man,  he  waited  until  the 
meal  was  nearly  over  before  he  said  anything  to  his  friend. 

"  Major,"  he  said,  "  to-morrow  is  Sunday,  and  I  think 
it  would  be  a  capital  thing  if  you  introduced  yourself  to 
Miss  King  after  church.  You  could  waylay  her  just 
outside  the  porch,  and  tell  her  who  you  are.  I've  talked 
to  her  a  good  deal  about  you,  so  she'll  know  you  directly 
she  hears  your  name." 

"I  don't  think  I'll  do  that,  J.  J.,"  said  the  Major. 
"  From  what  you've  told  me  about  her  I  don't  think  she's 
the  kind  of  woman  I'd  care  about.  I  think  I'll  keep 
clear  of  her  as  much  as  I  can." 

"  I  told  you,"  said  Meldon,  "  that  she  was  good-look- 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  83 

ing  and  had  pleasant  manners  when  not  irritated.  I 
don't  see  what  objection  you  can  have  to  her." 

"  I  wasn't  thinking  about  her  appearance  or  her  man- 
ners. They  may  be  all  right,  but  if  what  you  said  is 
true  and  she  really — " 

"Don't  be  narrow-minded,  Major.  I  hate  that  kind 
of  pharisaical  bigotry.  The  fact  that  Mrs.  Lorimer  be- 
haved as  she  did  is  no  reason  in  the  world  why  you 
should  cut  the  poor  woman.  It's  a  well-known  fact  that 
people  who  are  really  much  worse  than  she  is  are  freely 
received  into  the  best  society ;  and,  in  any  case,  the  latest 
systems  of  morality  are  quite  changing  the  view  that  we 
used  to  take  about  murder.  Take  Nietzsche,  for  in- 
stance— " 

"Who's  Nietzsche?" 

"  He's  a  philosopher,"  said  Meldon,  "  or  rather  he  was, 
for  he's  dead  now.  He  divided  all  morality  into  two 
kinds — slave  morality,  which  he  regards  as  despicable, 
and  master  morality,  which  is  of  the  most  superior  pos- 
sible kind." 

"  Still — I  don't  know  anything  about  the  man  you 
mention,  but  I  suppose  even  he  would  have  drawn  the 
line  at  murder." 

"  Not  at  all.  Master  morality,  which,  according  to  his 
system,  is  the  best  kind,  consists  entirely  of  being  the 
sort  of  man  who  is  able  to  get  into  a  position  to  bully 
other  people.  Slave  morality,  on  the  other  hand,  con- 
sists in  having  the  kind  of  temperament  which  submits 
to  being  bullied,  and  pretends  to  think  it  a  fine  thing  to 
suffer.  Now  murder,  as  any  one  can  see,  is  simply  an 
extreme  form  of  bullying;  and  therefore  a  successful 
murderer,  according  to  Nietzsche's  philosophy,  is  the 
finest  kind  of  man  there  is.  Whereas  his  victims,  the 


84  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

late  Lorimer,  for  instance,  are  mere  slaves,  and  there- 
fore thoroughly  despicable.  You  follow  me  so  far,  I 
suppose  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't.  If  any  man  says  what  you  say  that 
fellow  says — " 

"  Nietzsche  doesn't  actually  say  all  that,"  said  Mel- 
don.  "  He  hadn't  a  sufficiently  logical  mind  to  work  out 
his  philosophy  to  its  ultimate  practical  conclusions,  but 
you  may  take  my  word  for  it  that  I've  given  you  the 
gist  of  his  system." 

"  Then  he  ought  to  have  been  hanged." 

"  I  daresay  he  ought,"  said  Meldon.  "  I  need  scarcely 
say  I  don't  agree  with  him.  But  that's  not  the  point. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  so  far  from  being  hanged  or  in- 
curring any  kind  of  odium,  his  system  is  quite  the  most 
popular  there  is  at  present.  London  is  full  of  young 
men  in  large,  round  spectacles,  and  scraggy  women  who 
haven't  succeeded  in  getting  married — the  leaders  of 
modern  thought,  you'll  observe,  Major — every  one  of 
whom  is  deeply  attached  to  Nietzsche.  You  can't,  with- 
out labelling  yourself  a  hopeless  reactionary,  fly  right  in 
the  face  of  cultured  society  by  refusing  to  associate  with 
Miss  King." 

"  I  won't  mix  myself  up  with — " 

"  Come  now,  Major,  that  sort  of  attitude  would  have 
been  all  very  well  fifty  years  ago,  but  it  won't  do  now. 
You  simply  can't  shut  yourself  up  and  say  that  you  won't 
speak  to  any  one  who  doesn't  agree  with  you  in  every 
opinion  you  have.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  you  associate 
freely  with  lots  of  people  who  differ  from  you  in  religion 
and  politics  far  more  fundamentally  than  poor  Miss  King 
does.  You  can't  refuse  to  know  her  simply  because  she 
accepts  a  system  of  philosophy  which  you  never  heard 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  85 

of  till  this  minute,  and  even  now  don't  thoroughly  under- 
stand in  spite  of  all  I've  told  you  about  it." 

"  In  any  case,"  said  the  Major,  "  I  don't  like  women 
who  flirt.  And  you  told  me  yourself  that  she  tried  to 
flirt  with  you." 

"Ah,"  said  Meldon,  "now  we're  getting  at  your  real 
reasons.  I  thought  you  couldn't  be  in  earnest  about  the 
Nietzschean  philosophy.  That  was  merely  an  excuse. 
What  you're  really  afraid  of  is  that  Miss  King  might 
marry  you.  I  don't  blame  you  for  being  a  little  cautious 
about  that,  knowing  what  you  do  about  the  fate  of  her 
former  husbands.  At  the  same  time  I  may  point  out — " 

"  I'm  not  the  least  afraid  of  her  marrying  me.  She 
won't  get  the  chance." 

"  Then  why  do  you  say  you  object  to  her  flirting?  " 

"  Because  I  do  object  to  it.  I  don't  like  that  kind  of 
woman." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say,  Major,  that  a  girl  isn't  to  be 
allowed  to  make  eyes  at  the  man  she's  going  to  marry  ?  " 

"  I  don't  say  anything  of  the  sort.  Of  course,  if  she's 
going  to  marry  a  man — but  really,  J.  J.,  I  don't  know 
anything  about  these  things." 

"  Then  don't  talk  about  them.  You  may  take  my 
word  for  it,  Major,  that  Miss  King  is  perfectly  justified 
in  being  as  nice  as  ever  she  can  to  Simpkins." 

"  I  never  said  anything  about  Simpkins.  As  far  as 
I  can  make  out  she  isn't  particularly  nice  to  Simpkins." 

"  No,  she  isn't,  so  far ;  but  that's  only  because  she 
hasn't  had  a  fair  chance.  When  we  get  them  out  to- 
gether in  the  Spindrift — " 

"What?" 

"  When  we  get  the  two  of  them  out  together  in  the 
Spindrift/'  said  Meldon,  speaking  slowly  and  distinctly, 


86  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  you'll  see  that  she'll  make  herself  perfectly  fascinating 
— not  to  you  or  me,  but  to  Simpkins." 

"  Leaving  Miss  King  out  of  the  question,"  said  the 
Major,  "  I'd  like  you  to  be  perfectly  clear  about  this.  I 
won't—" 

"  Before  we  go  on  to  Simpkins,"  said  Meldon,  "  we 
must  settle  definitely  about  Miss  King.  Is  it  understood 
that  you  catch  her  after  church  to-morrow  and  invite 
her  out  for  a  sail  with  us  in  the  Spindrift?  " 

"  No ;  I  won't.  I  wouldn't  in  any  case ;  but  if  Simp- 
kins—" 

"  I'm  not  going  on  to  Simpkins  yet.  I  must  finish 
Miss  King  first.  You've  given  your  reasons  for  not 
making  her  acquaintance,  and  I've  shown  you  that  they 
are  utterly  feeble  and  won't  hold  water  for  a  minute. 
If  you've  no  other  objection,  then  I  think,  as  a  straight- 
forward man,  you  are  bound  to  admit  you  are  in  the 
wrong  and  do  what  you  ought  to  have  been  ready  to 
do  without  all  this  arguing." 

"  To  oblige  you,"  said  the  Major,  "  and  because  I 
want  you  to  have  a  pleasant  holiday  now  you're  here,  I 
will  ask  Miss  King  out  with  us  once.  But  I  won't  ask 
Simpkins.  The  man  is  a  horrid  bounder,  who  makes 
himself  objectionable  to  everybody,  and  I  won't  ask 
him." 

"  Nobody  wants  you  to  ask  him.     I'll  ask  him." 

"  That  will  be  just  the  same  thing.  Once  for  all,  J. 
J.,  I  won't  have  that  man  on  board  my  boat." 

"  I  don't  think,"  said  Meldon,  "  that  you  are  behaving 
with  quite  your  usual  fairness,  Major.  You  don't  like 
Simpkins.  I  am  not  going  into  the  reasons  for  your 
dislike.  They  may  be  sound,  or  they  may  be  the  re- 
verse. I  simply  state  the  fact  that  you  don't  get  on 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  87 

with  the  man.  Very  well.  I  don't  get  on  with  Miss 
King.  I  told  you  the  other  day  that  I  offended  her,  and 
she  was  what  I  should  call  extremely  rude  to  me  after- 
wards. But  do  I  bring  that  up  as  a  reason  why  you 
should  not  take  her  for  a  sail  in  the  Spindrift?  Cer- 
tainly not.  It  won't,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  be  particularly 
pleasant  for  me  having  to  sit  in  the  same  boat  all  day 
with  a  young  woman  who  won't  speak  to  me;  but  I'm 
prepared  to  sacrifice  myself  and  do  it.  And  you  ought 
to  be  ready  to  do  the  same  thing  in  the  case  of  Simpkins." 

"  I'm  not,"  said  the  Major.  "  I  can't  and  won't  have 
Simpkins." 

"  My  dear  Major,  don't  you  see  that  your  quarrel  with 
Simpkins  is  one  of  the  strongest  points  in  the  whole 
plan?  He  won't  speak  to  you  when  he  sees  that  you 
dislike  him.  Miss  King  won't  speak  to  me.  What  will 
the  consequence  be?  Why,  of  course,  they'll  be  thrown 
together.  They  must  talk  to  each  other,  and  that's  ex- 
actly what  we  want  them  to  do.  If  Simpkins  was  a 
friend  of  yours,  and  if  Miss  King  was  particularly  fond 
of  me,  there'd  be  no  use  our  taking  them  out  at  all. 
They  wouldn't  be  obliged  to  talk  to  each  other." 

"  If  you've  finished  your  dinner,  J.  J.,  we  may  as  well 
come  into  the  next  room  and  smoke.  I  don't  see  that 
there's  any  use  going  on  with  this  conversation." 

"  There  isn't ;  not  the  least.  But  you'll  do  me  the 
justice,  Major,  to  admit  that  it  wasn't  I  who  insisted 
on  it.  I  could  perfectly  well  have  arranged  the  matter 
in  two  sentences,  but  you  would  argue  with  me  about 
every  single  thing  I  said." 

Major  Kent  rose  and  opened  the  door  for  his  friend. 
They  went  together  into  the  study  and  sat  down.  The 
Major,  after  a  few  preliminary  excuses,  took  the  two 


copies  of  The  Times,  which  had  arrived  by  post  whilst 
he  was  out  in  the  Spindrift.  He  settled  down  to  the 
leading  articles  with  a  comfortable  sense  that  he  was 
doing  his  duty.  Meldon  wandered  round  the  room  look- 
ing for  something  to  read.  He  found  a  new  book  on 
boat-building  which  promised  to  be  interesting.  Un- 
fortunately it  turned  out  to  be  highly  technical,  and 
therefore  dull.  It  dropped  from  his  knees.  He  nodded, 
took  the  pipe  from  his  mouth,  lay  back  comfortably,  and 
went  to  sleep.  Major  Kent  satisfied  himself  that  the 
English  navy,  though  in  some  ways  the  best  in  the 
world,  was  in  other  respects  inefficient  and  utterly  use- 
less as  a  national  defence.  Then,  at  about  ten  o'clock, 
he  too  went  asleep.  A  few  minutes  later  he  began  to 
snore,  and  the  noise  he  made  woke  Meldon.  He  felt 
for  his  pipe,  filled  and  lit  it.  He  sat  gazing  at  Major 
Kent  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  then  he  coughed  loudly. 
The  Major  woke  with  a  start. 

"  It's  a  remarkable  thing,"  said  Meldon,  "  how  sleepy 
two  days  on  the  sea  make  one.  I  had  a  nap  myself. 
You  were  sound  and  snoring." 

"  It's  early  yet,"  said  the  Major,  glancing  at  the  clock. 
"  I  seldom  turn  in  before  eleven." 

"  I'm  going  to  turn  in  now,"  said  Meldon.  "  I'd  be 
better  in  bed,  for  I  can't  sleep  here  with  the  way  you're 
snoring.  I  just  woke  you  up  to  say  that  I'll  get  a  hold 
of  Simpkins  some  time  to-morrow  and  settle  things  with 
him.  I  daresay,  after  the  way  he  has  behaved  to  the 
poor  old  rector,  that  he'll  be  ashamed  to  come  to  church, 
but  I'll  look  him  up  afterwards.  You'll  be  responsible 
for  Miss  King." 

"I  can't  argue  any  more  to-night,"  said  the  Major, 
yawning ;  "  but  don't  you  go  to  bed  under  the  impression 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  89 

that  I'm  going  to  have  Simpkins  in  the  yacht,  for  I'm 
not." 

"  I  don't  want  to  argue  either,  but  I'll  just  say  one 
word  to  you  before  I  go :  one  word  that  I'd  like  to  have 
imprinted  on  your  mind  during  the  night.  You  won't 
mind  listening  to  one  word,  will  you?" 

"  Not  if  it's  only  one." 

"  It  is  literally  and  simply  one.     Duty." 

"  Duty !  "  said  the  Major,  sitting  up. 

"Yes,  duty.  You're  an  Englishman,  Major,  at  least 
by  descent,  and  you  know  that  there's  one  appeal  which 
is  never  made  in  vain  to  Englishmen,  and  that  is  the 
appeal  to  duty.  Wasn't  that  the  meaning  of  the  signal 
Nelson  hoisted  just  before  he  asked  Hardy  to  kiss  him? 
And  what  did  Hardy  do?  Kissed  him  at  once,  though 
he  can't  possibly  have  liked  it." 

"  I  think  you've  got  the  story  wrong  somewhere,  J.  J. 
As  well  as  I  recollect — " 

"  I  may  be  inaccurate  in  some  of  the  details,"  said 
Meldon,  "  but  the  broad  principle  is  as  I  state  it ;  and  I 
put  it  to  you  now,  Major,  before  I  say  good-night,  will 
you  or  will  you  not  respond  to  the  appeal?  Remember 
Trafalgar  and  the  old  Victory.  You're  a  military  man, 
of  course,  but  you  must  have  some  respect  for  Nelson." 

"  I  have.  But  I  don't  see  how  duty  comes  in  in  this 
case.  Oh,  J.  J. !  I  wish  you'd  go  to  bed  and  stop  talk- 
ing." 

"  I  will.  I  want  to.  I'm  absolutely  dropping  off  to 
sleep,  but  I  can't  go  till  I've  explained  to  you  where  your 
duty  lies.  Here  is  the  town  of  Ballymoy  groaning  under 
an  intolerable  tyranny.  Doyle's  life  is  a  burden  to  him. 
O'Donoghue  can't  sleep  at  night  for  fear  of  a  Local 
Government  Board  enquiry.  The  police  are  harried  in 


90  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

the  discharge  of  their  duties.  The  rector's  bronchitis  is 
intensified  to  a  dangerous  extent.  Sabina  Gallagher's 
red-haired  cousin,  whose  name  I've  not  yet  been  able  to 
discover,  is  perfectly  miserable.  Poor  old  Callaghan, 
who  means  well,  though  he  has  a  most  puritanical  dread 
of  impropriety,  is  worn  to  a  shadow.  It  rests  with  you 
whether  this  state  of  things  is  to  continue  or  not.  You 
and,  so  far  as  I  can  see  at  present,  you  alone,  are  in  a 
position  to  arrange  for  the  downfall  of  Simpkins.  Is 
it  or  is  it  not  your  duty,  your  simple  duty,  to  do  what 
you  can,  even  at  the  cost  of  some  little  temporary  in- 
convenience to  yourself  ?  " 

"  If  I  thought  all  that—"  said  the  Major.  "  But  I'm 
much  too  sleepy  to  think." 

"  You're  not  asked  to  think,"  said  Meldon.  "  What- 
ever thinking  has  to  be  done  I'll  do  myself.  You  have  to 
act,  or  rather  in  this  case  to  permit  me  to  act." 

"  I  expect  you'll  act,  as  you  call  it,  whether  I  permit 
you  or  not." 

"Of  course  I  will,"  said  Meldon.  "But  I'd  rather 
have  your  permission.  I'd  rather  you  didn't  shatter  the 
ideal  I've  always  had  of  you  as  a  duty-loving  English- 
man." 

"  All  right,"  said  the  Major  wearily.  "  Do  what  you 
like,  but  for  goodness'  sake  go  to  bed  and  stop  talking." 

"  Good-night,"  said  Meldon.  "  If  you  find  yourself 
inclined  to  change  your  mind  before  morning,  just  mur- 
mur over  to  yourself,  '  England  expects  every  man  to 
do  his  duty.'  That  will  stiffen  your  back." 


CHAPTER  IX 

\ 

MAJOR  KENT  came  down  to  breakfast  next 
morning  in  a  frock  coat  and  a  white  waistcoat. 
His  silk  hat,  carefully  brushed  and  glossy,  lay  on  the 
hall  table  with  a  pair  of  pale  grey  kid  gloves  beside  it. 
Meldon,  who  was  a  little  late  for  breakfast,  paused  in 
the  hall  and  looked  at  the  hat.  Entering  the  dining- 
room  he  took  a  long  stare  at  his  friend. 

"  Major,"  he  said,  "  you're  a  wonderful  man.  I  had 
forgotten  how  wonderful  you  are.  Now  that  I  am  get- 
ting to  know  you  again  I  am  struck  dumb  with  absolute 
amazement." 

The  Major  was  uneasily  conscious  that  his  attire  was 
in  strong  contrast  to  Mel  don's  shabby  jacket  and 
wrinkled  trousers. 

"  I  don't  suppose,"  said  Meldon,  "  that  there's  another 
man  in  the  whole  world  who  could  go  on  dressing  him- 
self up  like  that  Sunday  after  Sunday  in  a  place  like 
Ballymoy.  However,  the  habit  will  turn  out  beneficial 
for  once.  I  expect  you'll  produce  an  excellent  effect  on 
Miss  King." 

"  I  was  thinking  over  that  plan  of  yours  last  night," 
said  the  Major,  "  and — " 

"  I  was  under  the  impression  that  I  distinctly  told  you 
not  to  think.  There's  not  the  slightest  necessity  for  you 


92  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

to  exert  yourself  in  that  way;  and  besides,  so  far  as  I 
know,  you  invariably  think  wrong.  However,  if  you 
really  have  thought,  you'd  better  get  the  result  off  your 
chest  at  once." 

"  It  occurs  to  me,"  said  the  Major,  "  that  Miss  King 
is  not  likely  to  be  in  church." 

"  Of  course  she'll  be  in  church.     Why  shouldn't  she  ?  " 

"  Well,  if  she's  a  disciple  of  that  man  you  were  speak- 
ing about  last  night,  she  can  hardly  be  what's  generally 
called  a  Christian,  can  she  ?  " 

"Of  course  not.  But  she'll  come  to  church  just  the 
same." 

"  But  surely —  Not  if  she  doesn't  believe  in  Chris- 
tianity?" 

"  My  dear  Major !  your  ideas  in  some  respects  are 
extraordinarily  primitive.  The  less  anybody  likes  Chris- 
tianity for  himself,  the  more  sure  he  is  that  it's  an  ex- 
cellent religion  for  other  people.  That's  the  reason  you 
find  statesmen  all  over  the  world  supporting  whatever 
Church  is  uppermost  at  the  moment  in  the  particular 
country  they  happen  to  be  dealing  with.  Look  at  the 
history  of  Ireland,  for  instance.  For  a  century  and  a 
half  British  statesmen  steadily  fatted  up  our  church. 
Now  they  are  dropping  any  plums  that  they  can  spare 
— Congested  Districts  Boards  and  such  things — into  the 
mouths  of  the  Roman  Catholic  bishops.  Do  you  sup- 
pose they  care  a  pin  for  either?  Not  they.  All  they 
want  is  to  strengthen  up  some  form  of  religion  which 
will  keep  the  people  quiet.  They  think  that  Christianity 
is  an  excellent  thing  for  everybody  they  have  to  govern, 
though  they  take  jolly  good  care  not  to  act  on  it  them- 
selves. In  just  the  same  way  you'll  see  that  Miss  King 
will  be  in  church  to-day.  As  a  follower  of  Nietzsche 


93 

she  doesn't  herself  accept  the  ethics  of  Christianity,  but 
she'll  consider  it  her  duty  to  encourage  everybody  else  to 
accept  them,  and  the  only  practical  way  she  has  of  doing 
that  is  to  attend  church  regularly." 

"  You're  preaching  to-day,  aren't  you,  J.  J.  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  am.  I  promised  the  poor  old  rector  that  I 
would  do  all  I  could  to  help  him  while  I'm  here.  Why 
do  you  ask  ?  " 

"  I  was  wondering,"  said  the  Major,  "  if  you  were 
going  to  give  us  that  doctrine  out  of  the  pulpit." 

"  Well,  I'm  not.  You  ought  to  know,  Major,  that  my 
sermons  are  always  strictly  practical,  and  deal  entirely 
with  matters  of  pressing  local  importance:  the  ordinary 
difficulties  and  dangers  of  the  people  I'm  preaching  to. 
There  won't  be  any  statesmen  in  church  to-day,  so  there'd 
be  no  point  in  my  explaining  that  theory.  If  I'm  ever 
asked  to  preach  before  the  House  of  Commons  I  shall 
give  it  to  them." 

This  account  of  Meldon's  theory  of  sermons  made 
the  Major  a  little  nervous.  He  asked  his  next  question 
anxiously. 

"  Are  you  going  to  be  personal,  J.  J.  ?     I  hope  not." 

"  I  can't  preach  the  whole  sermon  to  you  beforehand, 
Major ;  but  I  don't  mind  telling  you  that  it  will  deal  with 
the  vice  of  squabbling  which  I  find  rampant  in  small  com- 
munities. I  shan't,  of  course,  mention  you  and  Simp- 
kins  ;  or,  for  the  matter  of  that,  Doyle  and  O'Donoghue, 
though  it  wouldn't  matter  much  if  I  did  mention  them. 
Being  Roman  Catholics,  they  won't  be  there  to  object." 

"  The  sermon  will  be  personal,  then  ?  " 

"  No,  it  won't.  I  shan't  even  allude  to  the  subject  of 
fishing.  I  shall  preach  in  such  a  way  as  to  get  at  every- 
body who  has  ever  quarrelled  with  anybody  else.  After 


94  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

listening  to  what  I  say,  you  will  be  much  more  inclined 
to  take  Simpkins  out  in  the  Spindrift." 

Meldon's  sermon  was  all  that  he  boasted.  He  chose 
as  his  text  a  verse  out  of  the  Book  of  Proverbs  which 
compares  any  one  who  meddles  unnecessarily  with  strife 
to  a  man  who  takes  a  dog  by  the  ears.  He  spoke  feel- 
ingly, from  what  appeared  to  be  the  recollection  of  un- 
pleasant experience,  of  the  way  in  which  spirited  dogs 
behave  when  any  one  takes  them  forcibly  by  the  ears. 
He  explained  in  a  short  parenthesis  the  best  way  of  deal- 
ing with  dog-fights.  He  also  described  in  simple  lan- 
guage the  consequences  which  result  from  being  bitten — 
consequences  which  range  from  hydrophobia  and  tetanus 
down  to  simple  blood-poisoning.  Then  he  passed  on  to 
show  that  human  bites,  inflicted,  so  he  said,  oftener  with 
the  tongue  than  with  the  teeth,  were  far  more  dangerous 
than  those  of  dogs.  The  congregation  became  greatly 
interested  at  this  point,  and  allowed  themselves  to  be 
swept  forward  by  a  violent  sophism  which  carried  the 
preacher  far  beyond  the  original  statement  of  Solomon. 
All  quarrelling,  not  merely  interfering  with  existing 
quarrels  of  long  standing,  was  denounced  in  forcible  lan- 
guage. Major  Kent  felt  uncomfortable;  then,  as  the 
preacher  worked  himself  up,  resentful.  Finally,  he  was 
cowed.  Meldon  seized  the  psychological  moment  and 
closed  his  discourse  with  a  quotation  from  the  poetry  of 
Dr.  Watts.  He  made  a  remarkably  apposite  citation  of 
the  well-known  lines  which  exonerate  dogs,  bears,  and 
lions  from  any  blame  when  they  bark,  bite,  growl,  or 
fight,  and  emphasised  the  entirely  different  position  of 
the  human  race. 

Major  Kent,  bruised  by  the  vigour  of  his  friend's  elo- 
quence, accosted  Miss  King  in  the  church  porch  after 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  95 

service;  apologised  for  not  having  formally  called  on 
her;  and  invited  her  to  go  yachting  with  him  next  day 
in  the  Spindrift.  Miss  King  accepted  the  invitation,  and 
then,  worked  up  perhaps  to  an  'unusual  pitch  of  friendli- 
ness by  the  sermon,  asked  the  Major  to  go  back  to  Bally- 
moy  House  with  her  for  luncheon.  Meldon  appeared 
from  the  door  of  the  vestry  room  and  urged  the  Major 
to  accept  the  invitation. 

"  As  I  expected,"  he  said,  "  Simpkins  wasn't  in  church. 
—How  do  you  do,  Miss  King?  I'm  glad  you  and  the 
Major  have  made  friends.  You're  sure  to  like  each 
other. — So  I  shall  have  to  go  round  to  his  house  and 
look  him  up.  I  daresay  he'll  give  me  a  bite  to  eat ;  and 
if  he  doesn't,  Doyle  will.  You  will  of  course  accept " — 
he  appeared  to  be  addressing  Major  Kent — "  Miss  King's 
invitation.  I'll  call  round  for  you  at  about  four.  I  dare- 
say Miss  King  will  give  us  both  a  cup  of  tea.  You  drive 
her  home  in  your  trap,  Major.  I  can  walk  down  to 
Simpkins'  house  quite  easily." 

Meldon,  carrying  his  hat  in  one  hand,  strode  off  in  the 
direction  of  Mr.  Simpkins'  house.  Miss  King  looked 
at  Major  Kent. 

"  You  see  it's  all  settled  for  you,"  she  said.  "  You'll 
have  to  come  back  with  me." 

"  I  suppose  I  had  better,"  said  the  Major.  Then  after 
a  pause  he  added,  "Of  course  I'm  delighted  to,  and  it's 
very  kind  of  you  to  ask  me." 

Simpkins  was  stretched  in  a  hammock  chair  reading  a 
novel  when  Meldon  found  him.  He  received  a  severe 
lecture  for  not  attending  church,  which  seemed  to  sur- 
prise him  a  good  deal,  especially  as  his  absence  was 
attributed  by  Meldon  to  shame  and  a  consciousness  of 
guilt,  feelings  from  which  Simpkins  had  never  in  his 


96  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

life  suffered.  Then — and  this  seemed  to  astonish  him 
still  more — he  was  warmly  invited  to  go  for  a  day's 
yachting  in  the  Spindrift. 

"  I  didn't  hear,"  he  said  doubtfully,  "  that  Major  Kent 
was  going  away." 

"He  isn't,"  said  Meldon.  "Don't  I  tell  you  he's 
giving  a  picnic  in  his  yacht  ?  " 

"  Are  you  sure  he  wants  me  ?  " 

"  Certain.  He  sent  you  an  invitation,  which  is  a  plain 
proof  that  he  wants  you.  He  would  have  delivered  it 
himself,  only  that  Miss  King  caught  him  after  church 
and  carried  him  off  to  luncheon.  But  I  have  one  of  his 
cards  with  me,  and  if  you  insist  on  everything  being  done 
in  the  most  accurate  and  correct  possible  manner,  I'll 
leave  it  on  the  umbrella  stand  in  your  hall  as  I  go  out." 

Meldon  had  provided  himself  with  a  few  of  the  Major's 
visiting  cards  before  leaving  Portsmouth  Lodge  in  the 
morning.  He  was  a  man  who  prided  himself  on  leaving 
nothing  to  chance.  Since  it  was  just  possible  that  the 
cards  might  turn  out  to  be  useful,  he  had  put  a  few  in 
his  pocket. 

"  In  fact,"  he  went  on,  "  to  prevent  any  possible  mis- 
take or  misunderstanding  I  may  as  well  hand  it  over  to 
you  at  once."  He  produced  a  card,  slightly  crumpled 
and  a  good  deal  soiled,  from  his  waistcoat  pocket,  and 
laid  it  on  Simpkins'  knee.  Simpkins  looked  at  it  doubt- 
fully, took  it  up  in  his  hand,  and  examined  both  sides 
of  it.  Then  he  spoke  slowly. 

"  I  think  you  know,"  he  said ;  "  in  fact,  I've  told  you 
myself,  that  the  Major  and  I  aren't  on  very  good  terms. 
I  was  obliged  to  speak  to  him  rather  strongly  about  the 
way  he  used  to  fish  in  a  part  of  the  river — 

"  I  know  all  about  that ;  you  needn't  go  into  it  again. 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  97 

It's  entirely  over  and  done  with.  An  era  of  peace  is 
beginning  to  dawn.  After  listening  to  my  sermon  this 
morning — it's  a  great  pity  for  your  own  sake  that  you 
weren't  in  church,  Simpkins — the  Major  finds  himself 
in  a  position  to  forget  the  past  and  to  start  fresh.  His 
attitude  now — very  largely  owing  to  my  sermon — is  that 
of  the  dove  which  came  to  the  ark  with  an  olive  leaf 
plucked  off  in  its  mouth." 

Simpkins  was  not  apparently  prepared  to  accept  the 
olive  leaf.  He  asked  Meldon  whether  that  dove  was  the 
text  of  his  sermon. 

"  No,  it  wasn't.  I  might  have  alluded  to  it,  but  I 
didn't.  I  might  have  explained,  if  I'd  thought  of  it  at 
the  time — in  fact,  I  will  explain  to  you  now.  The  dove 
is  of  all  birds  the  most  peaceful  and  the  least  inclined  to 
quarrel  with  other  birds.  You'd  know  that  by  the  sooth- 
ing way  it  coos,  and  also  by  the  colour  of  its  breast. 
Tennyson,  the  poet,  notes  the  fact  that  the  peculiar  bluey 
shade  of  its  feathers  arouses  feelings  of  affection  in 
people  who  weren't  thinking  of  anything  of  the  sort 
before  they  saw  it.  I'm  not  prepared  to  assert  that 
positively  myself,  but  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  there  was 
something  in  the  idea.  Then  the  olive  branch  is  the 
regular,  recognised  symbol  of  peace.  The  reason  of  that 
is  that  oil  is  got  out  of  olives,  and  oil  is  one  of  the  most 
soothing  things  there  is.  Of  course,  you  get  oil  from 
other  sources,  too — from  whales,  for  instance;  but  the 
olive  branch  is  chosen  as  a  symbol  because  it's  such  a 
much  more  convenient  thing  to  carry  about  than  a  whale 
is.  No  explorer,  when  meeting  a  savage  tribe  with  which 
he  doesn't  want  to  fight,  could  possibly  wave  a  whale, 
even  if  he  had  one  with  him — and  he  wouldn't  be  likely 
to,  unless  he  was  exploring  the  polar  regions — whereas 


98  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

he  can  wave  an  olive  branch,  and  always  does.  That's  the 
reason  the  olive  branch  and  not  the  whale  is  chosen  as  the 
symbol  of  peace.  You'll  be  able  to  realise  now  how 
extraordinarily  peaceable  the  Major  is  when  I  compare 
him  to  a  dove  with  an  olive  leaf  in  his  mouth." 

"  If,"  said  Simpkins,  who  had  only  partially  followed 
the  reasoning  about  the  dove  and  the  olive — "  if  the 
Major  apologises  for  the  way  he  spoke,  I'm  quite  ready — " 

"  He  doesn't  actually  apologise,"  said  Meldon.  "  You 
can  hardly  expect  that  of  him.  I  think  myself  he's  going 
as  far  as  can  reasonably  be  expected  of  him  when  he  asks 
you  out  for  a  day's  yachting.  Very  few  men  would  do 
as  much ;  and  I  may  say  to  you,  Simpkins,  that  if  you'd 
been  in  church  to-day  and  heard  my  sermon,  you  wouldn't 
be  inclined  now  to  stand  out  for  an  apology.  You  would, 
in  fact,  most  likely  be  looking  out  for  an  olive  leaf  and 
a  dove  of  your  own  to  carry  to  the  Major." 

"  But  he  was  entirely  in  the  wrong  about  the  fishing. 
I  admitted  all  along  that  he  was  perfectly  entitled  to  fish 
below  the  bridge,  but  he  insisted — " 

"  Quite  so,"  said  Meldon.  "  That's  my  exact  point. 
Any  fool  can  apologise  when  he's  been  in  the  right. 
That  gives  him  such  a  comfortable  sense  of  superiority 
that  he  doesn't  a  bit  mind  grovelling  before  the  other 
fellow.  What  is  totally  impossible  is  to  apologise  when 
you're  in  the  wrong.  You  must  be  able  to  realise  that." 

"  I'm  not  at  all  sure,"  said  Simpkins,  "  that  I  ought  to 
accept  the  invitation.  Major  Kent's  hostility  to  me  has 
been  most  marked.  Everybody  about  the  place  has 
noticed  it." 

"  Unless  you're  perfectly  sure  that  you  ought  not  to 
accept  the  invitation,"  said  Meldon,  "  I  think  you'd  better 
give  yourself  the  benefit  of  the  doubt.  It  will  be  a  most 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  99 

enjoyable  expedition.     Miss  King  is  coming.     By  the  way, 
I  hope  you  haven't  quarrelled  with  Miss  King  in  any 


way 


"  No,  I  haven't.     Why  should  I  ?  " 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  it.  I  was  afraid  perhaps  you  and 
she  might  have  fallen  out  over  something.  But  if  you 
haven't,  why  didn't  you  go  near  her  for  the  last  two 
days?" 

"  I  was  there  on  Thursday  afternoon.  I  can't  with 
any  decency  call  on  her  every  day  in  the  week." 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  can ;  and,  if  you  mean  to  marry  her,  you 
ought  to.  Believe  me,  there's  nothing  estranges  a 
woman's  affection  so  rapidly  as  that  kind  of  studied 
neglect.  She  can't  call  on  you,  you  know,  without  putting 
herself  in  a  wholly  false  position." 

"  I  haven't  quite  made  up  my  mind  about  marrying 
her." 

"  Oh,  well,  the  day  in  the  Spindrift  will  do  that  for 
you.  There's  something  very  exhilarating,  Simpkins, 
about  a  fresh  sea  breeze.  It  simply  sweeps  away  all 
hesitation,  and  renders  you  capable  of  marrying  almost 
any  one.  That's  the  reason  why  sailors  are  famous  for 
having  a  wife  in  every  port  they  call  at,  and  why  nobody 
blames  them  for  it.  Exposed,  as  they  necessarily  are, 
to  the  sea  air  at  its  purest,  they  simply  can't  help  them- 
selves. They  become  exaggeratedly  uxorious  without 
in  the  least  meaning  to." 

"  Besides,"  said  Simpkins,  "  I've  no  reason  to  suppose 
that  Miss  King  would  marry  me." 

"  Have  you  any  reason  to  suppose  she  won't  ?  " 

"  No.     I've  only  seen  her  once,  you  know." 

"Then  I  think  it  extremely  likely  that  she  will. 
Everybody  knows  that  most  people  do  things  not  so  much 


TOO  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

because  they  want  to  as  because  they  haven't  any  reason 
for  refusing.  Take  the  average  party,  for  instance — tea 
party,  tennis  party,  garden  party,  or  dinner  party.  How 
many  men  go  to  parties  because  they  want  to  ?  Not  one 
in  a  hundred.  The  other  ninety-nine  go  simply  because 
there's  no  available  reason  for  not  going.  It's  just  the 
same  with  marrying.  Unless  you  give  Miss  King  some 
good  reason  for  refusing  you,  she'll  marry  you  as  soon 
as  ever  you  ask  her.  And  if  I  were  you  I'd  ask  her  to- 
morrow. We'll  land  on  an  island  for  luncheon.  The 
Major  and  I  will  slip  off  by  ourselves  and  give  you  your 
opportunity." 
"  I'm  not  sure—" 

"  Come  now,  Simpkins,  have  you  anything  against  the 
girl  ?  Has  anybody  been  circulating  stories  about  her  of 
any  sort  ?  I  know  this  is  a  gossipy  sort  of  place,  and — " 
"  Oh,  no ;  it's  simply  that  I  don't  know  her." 
"  If  that's  all,"  said  Meldon,  "  a  day  in  the  Spindrift 
will  set  it  right.  You'll  be  surprised  how  intimate  you 
become  with  a  person  when  you're  sitting  for  hours 
crammed  up  against  him  or  her  in  the  cockpit  of  a  five- 
ton  yacht.  By  the  time  you've  disentangled  her  twice 
from  the  mainsheet,  with  the  Major  swearing  all  the  time, 
and  been  obliged  to  haul  her  up  to  windward  whenever  the 
boat  goes  about  and  she  gets  left  with  her  head  down 
on  the  lee  side,  you  get  to  feel  as  if  you'd  known  her 
intimately  for  years.  By  the  way,  what  time  do  you 
lunch?" 

"  Half-past  one,"  said  Simpkins.     "  Will  you—" 
"  Thanks,"  said  Meldon ;  "  I  will,  if  you're  quite  sure 
there's  enough  for  two.     I'm  due  at  Miss  King's  at  four. 
The  Major's  there.     Miss  King  asked  him  to  luncheon 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  101 

with  her.  But  you  needn't  mind.  He  hasn't  the  least 
notion  of  marrying  her  or  anybody  else.  You  can  come 
with  me  in  the  afternoon  if  you  like.  In  fact,  I  think 
it  would  be  a  very  good  plan  if  you  did.  I'll  clear  the 
Major  out  of  the  way  at  once,  and  then  you  can  have  a 
good  innings.  If  you  play  your  cards  properly  to-day, 
you'll  certainly  be  in  a  position  to  propose  to  her  to- 
morrow." 

At  four  o'clock  Meldon  led  the  rather  embarrassed 
Simpkins  up  to  Ballymoy  House.  Miss  King  and  Major 
Kent  were  sitting  together  on  the  lawn,  and  were  ap- 
parently getting  on  very  well  indeed.  The  greeting 
between  Mr.  Simpkins  and  the  Major  was  constrained 
and  cold.  Miss  King  seemed  to  feel  that  the  situation 
demanded  tact.  She  suggested  ordering  tea  at  once,  and 
having  it  out  of  doors. 

"  Not  for  us,  thanks,"  said  Meldon.  "  The  Major  and 
I  must  be  off  at  once.  We  haven't  a  moment  to  delay." 

Major  Kent  looked  surprised,  and  seemed  inclined  to 
ask  questions.  He  resented  the  arrival  of  Simpkins,  but 
he  did  not  want  to  leave  Miss  King  so  soon. 

"  I  said  this  morning,"  said  Meldon,  "  that  we'd  stop 
for  tea;  but  since  then  I  find  that  I'm  tied — in  fact, 
we're  both  tied — to  a  most  important  engagement,  and 
must  absolutely  run  if  we  are  to  be  in  time.  Come  along, 
Major."  He  seized  him  by  the  arm  as  he  spoke.  "  Good- 
bye, Miss  King.  Good-bye,  Simpkins.  We'll  see  you 
both  at  Portsmouth  Lodge  at  ten  to-morrow  norning." 

"  I  suppose,  J.  J.,"  said  the  Major,  when  Meldon,  reach- 
ing the  highroad,  slackened  his  pace — "  I  suppose  that 
I'm  being  hustled  about  like  this  so  that  Simpkins  can 
have  Miss  King  all  to  himself,  but — " 


102  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  Exactly,"  said  Meldon.  "  I  may  tell  you,  Major,  that 
I  now  look  upon  Simpkins  as  practically  a  dead  man.  I 
don't  see  how  he  can  possibly  escape." 

"  What  I  was  going  to  say,"  said  the  Major,  "  is  that 
I  think  you  are  mistaken  about  Miss  King.  She  doesn't 
seem  to  me  the  least  like  a  criminal." 

"  Of  course  not.  She  wouldn't  be  the  successful 
murderess  she  is  if  she  hadn't  the  manners  and  appearance 
of  a  very  gentle  and  gracious  lady.  That's  what  gives 
her  the  pull  she  has  when  it  comes  to  the  verdict  of  a 
jury.  You  ought  to  know,  Major,  that  the  old  Bill  Sykes 
sort  of  criminal,  the  brutalised-looking  man  with  a  huge 
jaw  and  a  low  forehead,  is  quite  out  of  date  now.  No 
one  gets  himself  up  in  that  style  who  means  to  go  in  for 
serious  crime.  In  a  book  published  the  other  day  there 
was  a  composite  photograph  made  up  of  the  faces  of 
fifty  or  sixty  criminals  of  the  most  extreme  kind.  I 
assure  you  that  the  net  result  was  an  uncommonly  good- 
looking  man.  That  shows  you  the  truth  of  what  I'm 
saying." 

"  In  any  case,  J.  J.,  setting  aside  her  personal  appear- 
ance and  manner — " 

"  Your  impression  of  her  personal  appearance.  I 
wasn't  taken  in  by  it." 

"  She  isn't  the  sort  of  woman  you  said  she  was.  She'd 
never  heard  of  that  philosopher  of  yours." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  she  denied  ever  having  heard 
the  name  of  Nietzsche  ?  " 

"  Not  exactly.  The  fact  is  that  I  couldn't  recollect  his 
name,  but  I  gave  her  a  sketch  of  his  doctrines — " 

"  I  don't  expect  she  recognised  your  sketch.  You  were 
probably  grossly  inaccurate." 

"  I  gave  her  almost  word  for  word  what  you  said  last 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  103 

night  about  murder  being  a  very  virtuous  thing  and  bully- 
ing being  the  highest  form  of  morality." 

"  Even  so  I  don't  expect  she  recognised  it.  You  see 
I  had  to  paraphrase  the  whole  thing  to  bring  it  down 
to  the  level  of  your  understanding.  If  you'd  been  in  a 
position  to  quote  a  phrase  or  two,  like  Herren  Morale 
for  instance,  she'd  have  recognised  the  system  at  once, 
even  without  the  name  of  Nietzsche." 

"  I  couldn't  do  that,  of  course." 

"  Now  I  come  to  think  of  it,  I  don't  suppose  she'd 
have  owned  up  to  Nietzsche  in  any  case.  She'd  have 
been  bound  to  deny  any  knowledge  of  the  system.  You 
see  she  doesn't  know  that  I've  told  you  who  she  really  is. 
She  probably  distrusts  you  as  a  magistrate.  After  the 
brutal  way  in  which  Sir  Gilbert  Hawkesby  summed  up 
against  her,  she  would  naturally  be  a  bit  shy  of  any  one 
occupying  any  sort  of  judicial  position.  Of  course  if  she 
knew  that  you  were  keenly  interested  in  the  death  of 
Simpkins  it  would  have  been  different.  She'd  have 
spoken  quite  openly  to  you  then." 

"  I  don't  believe  she'll  kill  Simpkins." 

"  She  will  if  she  marries  him.  Not  that  Simpkins  is 
a  particularly  objectionable  man  in  my  opinion.  I  rather 
like  him  myself.  But  Miss  King  lives  for  her  art,  and 
once  Simpkins  proposes  to  her  his  fate  is  sealed." 

"  She  did  mention  her  art  once  or  twice,"  said  the 
Major.  "  Now  that  you  remind  me  of  it,  I  distinctly 
recollect  her  saying  that  it  was  the  great  thing  in  her  life." 

"  There  you  are  then.  Perhaps  now  you'll  believe  me 
for  the  future,  and  not  be  starting  miserable,  sceptical 
objections  to  every  word  I  say.  What  did  you  say  when 
she  talked  to  you  about  her  art?  Did  you  cross-question 
her  about  what  it  was  ?  " 


104  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  No,  I  didn't.  I  wasn't  thinking  of  your  absurd 
theories  when  I  was  talking  to  her.  I  thought  she  meant 
painting,  or  something  of  that  sort.  I  felt  sorry  for 
her,  J.  J.  She  seems  to  me  to  have  a  very  lonely  kind 
of  life." 

"Of  course  she  does — in  the  intervals." 

"What?" 

"There  are  intervals,  of  course.  Miss  King  isn't  the 
sort  of  woman  to  form  an  intimacy  with  another  man 
until  she  is  really  a  widow.  It's  quite  natural  that  she 
should  feel  lonely  just  now,  for  instance.  The  mere 
absence  of  the  excitement  she's  been  accustomed  to  for 
so  long  would  have  a  depressing  effect  on  her." 


CHAPTER  X 

MELDON  was  a  man  who  liked  to  get  tHe  full 
possible  measure  of  enjoyment  out  of  his  holi- 
days. He  counted  the  hours  of  daylight  which  he  spent 
in  bed  as  wasted,  and  although  always  late  for  breakfast, 
was  generally  up  and  active  before  any  other  member  of 
the  Major's  household.  On  Monday  morning  he  got  out 
of  bed  at  half-past  five  and  went  down  to  the  sea  to 
bathe.  He  wore  nothing  except  his  pyjamas  and  an  old 
pair  of  canvas  shoes,  and  so  was  obliged  to  go  back  to 
his  bedroom  again  after  his  swim.  As  he  passed  Major 
Kent's  door  he  hammered  vigorously  on  it  with  his  fist. 
When  he  thought  he  had  made  noise  enough  to  awaken 
his  friend,  he  turned  the  handle  of  the  door,  put  his 
head  into  the  room,  and  shouted, — 

"  Splendid  day.  Absolutely  the  best  possible ;  first- 
rate  sailing  breeze,  and  no  prospect  of  rain." 

Major  Kent  growled  in  reply. 

"  What's  that  you  say? 

"  Confound  you,  J.  J.  Get  out  of  that.  What's  tK| 
good  of  waking  me  at  this  hour  ?  " 

Meldon  opened  the  door  a  little  wider  and  stepped 
into  the  room. 

"  I  thought  you'd  like  to  know  about  the  weather,"  he 
said.  "  It's  extremely  important  for  us  to  secure  a  really 
first-rate  day.  If  it  turned  out  that  we  could  do  nothing 

105 


io6  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

but  lollop  about  half  a  mile  from  the  shore  in  a  dead 
calm,  poor  Simpkins  wouldn't  have  a  chance ;  or  if — " 

"  Go  away,  J.  J." 

"And  if  it  were  to  come  on  a  downpour  of  rain,  his 
spirits  would  be  so  damped  that  he'd  never  get  himself 
worked  up  to  the  pitch  of — " 

"  I  suppose  I  may  as  well  get  up,"  said  the  Major 
despairingly. 

"  Not  the  least  necessity  for  that,"  said  Meldon.  "  You 
can  sleep  for  another  hour  and  a  half  at  least.  It  can't 
be  more  than  half-past  six,  and  allowing  time  for  the 
most  elaborate  toilet  you  can  possibly  want  to  make,  you 
needn't  get  up  till  eight.  I  should  say  myself  that  you'd 
sleep  much  more  comfortably  now  you  know  that  the  day 
is  going  to  be  fine.  Nothing  interferes  with  slumber 
more  radically  than  any  anxiety  of  mind." 

The  weather  was  all  that  Meldon  said  it  was ;  but  his 
satisfaction  with  it  turned  out  to  be  ill-founded.  It  was. 
based  on  a  miscalculation.  What  seemed  to  him  a  desir- 
able sailing  breeze  was  a  cause  of  grave  discomfort  to 
half  the  party. 

Simpkins  began  to  give  way  in  less  than  an  hour.  He 
yawned,  pulled  himself  together,  and  then  yawned  again. 
After  that  he  ceased  to  take  any  active  part  in  the 
conversation.  Then  Miss  King  began  to  lose  colour. 
Meldon,  who  was  sitting  forward  with  his  legs  dangling 
over  the  combing  of  the  cockpit,  winked  at  Major  Kent. 
The  Major,  uncomfortably  aware  of  the  feelings  of  his 
guests,  scowled  at  Meldon.  The  nearest  island  on  which 
it  was  possible  to  land  was  still  some  way  off.  He  fore- 
saw a  period  of  extreme  unpleasantness.  Meldon  winked 
again,  and  mouthed  the  word  "  Ilaun  More "  silently, 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  107 

It  was  the  name  of  the  nearest  island,  and  he  meant  to 
suggest  to  the  Major  that  it  would  be  very  desirable  to 
go  no  further.  He  might,  without  giving  offence,  have 
said  all  he  wanted  to  say  out  loud.  Simpkins  had  reached 
a  stage  of  his  malady  in  which  it  was  impossible  for  him 
to  listen  intelligently  to  anything,  and  Miss  King  would 
have  rejoiced  to  hear  of  a  prospect  of  firm  land. 

The  Spindrift,  which  had  been  thrashing  her  way  into 
the  teeth  of  the  wind,  was  allowed  to  go  free,  and  reached 
swiftly  towards  Ilaun  More.  The  change  of  motion 
completely  finished  Simpkins,  but  the  period  of  his  ex- 
treme misery  was  short.  The  yacht  rounded  up  into  the 
wind  in  a  sheltered  bay,  and  Meldon  let  go  the  anchor. 
The  boom,  swinging  rapidly  from  side  to  side,  swept 
Simpkins'  hat  (a  stiff-brimmed  straw  hat)  into  the  sea. 
He  made  no  effort  to  save  it;  but  the  Major,  grabbing 
the  boat-hook,  got  hold  of  it  just  before  it  floated  beyond 
reach,  and  drew  it,  waterlogged  and  limp,  into  the  boat. 
Simpkins  expressed  no  gratitude.  Meldon  hauled  the 
punt  alongside,  and  asked  Miss  King  if  she  would  like 
to  go  ashore.  She  assented  with  a  feeble  smile.  There 
was  no  use  consulting  Simpkins.  His  wishes  were  taken 
for  granted,  and  he  was  deposited,  with  great  difficulty, 
in  the  bow  of  the  punt.  Meldon  rowed  them  ashore. 
He  gave  his  arm  to  Miss  King  and  led  her  up  to  a  dry 
rock,  on  which  she  sat  down.  He  went  back  to  the 
punt  again,  straightened  out  Simpkins,  hauled  him  up, 
and  set  him  down  beside  Miss  King.  Then  he  rowed 
back  to  the  Spindrift  in  the  punt.  • 

"  This,"  said  the  Major  angrily,  "  is  a  nice  kind  of 
party.  You  might  have  had  more  sense,  J.  J.,  than  to 
invite  people  of  that  sort  out  in  the  Spindrift" 


io8  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  You're  very  unreasonable,"  said  Meldon.  "  I  thought 
you'd  have  found  the  keenest  delight  in  watching  the 
sufferings  of  Simpkins.  If  I  had  an  enemy  in  the  world 
; — I'm  thankful  to  say  I  haven't — but  if  I  had,  there's 
nothing  would  give  me  greater  pleasure  than  to  see  him 
enduring  the  agony  that  Simpkins  has  just  been  through. 
But  that's  the  worst  of  you.  I  arrange  these  little 
surprises  for  you,  hoping  to  see  your  face  light  up  with  a 
smile  of  gratification,  and  all  I  get  in  return  is  growls 
and  grumbles." 

Major  Kent  grinned. 

"  That's  better,"  said  Meldon.  "  I'm  glad  to  see  that 
you're  capable  of  getting  some  good  out  of  an  innocent 
pleasure,  even  if  you  have  to  wait  till  somebody  points 
out  to  you  what  it  is  you  ought  to  enjoy." 

"  Any  way,  J.  J.,  this  will  put  a  stopper  on  your  plan. 
There'll  be  no  love-making  to-day." 

"  On  the  contrary,"  said  Meldon,  "  I  expect  we've  laid 
the  foundation  of  a  deep  and  enduring  affection.  There's 
nothing  draws  people  together  more  than  a  common  mis- 
fortune." 

"  But  you  can't  expect  a  woman  to  take  to  a  man  when 
she  sees  him  in  the  state  Simpkins  was  in  when  we  were 
on  the  reach  towards  the  island." 

"Not  if  she's  all  right  herself,"  said  Meldon;  "but 
when  she's  in  the  state  Miss  King  was  in  she's  past 
noticing  anybody's  complexion.  The  only  emotion  Miss 
King  could  possibly  have  felt,  the  only  emotion  of  a 
spiritual  kind,  was  a  bitter  hatred  of  you  and  me;  and 
that,  of  course,  would  make  her  feel  a  strong  affection 
for  Simpkins.  On  the  whole,  Major,  we  may  congratu- 
late ourselves  on  our  success  so  far.  Just  put  the 
luncheon  basket  into  the  punt,  will  you?  They'll  be  as 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  109 

hungry  as  wolves  in  another  half  hour.  Simpkins  is 
beginning  to  buck  up  already.  Look  at  him." 

Simpkins  was  staggering  towards  his  hat,  which  Meldon 
had  left  lying  at  the  place  where  the  punt  landed. 

"  I  expect,"  said  the  Major,  "  that  he  feels  as  if  the 
sun  on  the  back  of  his  head  would  upset  him  again.  It 
must  be  pretty  hot  in  there  where  they're  sheltered  from 
the  wind." 

"  We'll  give  him  a  drop  of  whisky,"  said  Meldon, 
"  and  set  him  on  his  feet  properly.  Get  in,  Major." 

"  I'm  not  at  all  sure  that  I'm  going  ashore.  I  think 
I'd  be  more  comfortable  where  I  am.  Simpkins  is  bad 
enough  when  he's  healthy,  but  in  the  condition  he's  in 
now  I  simply  couldn't  stand  him  at  all.  Besides,  I  don't 
think  Miss  King  would  like  us  to  land.  It  doesn't  seem 
to  me  quite  fair  to  go  spying  on  a  woman  when  she's 
sick.  She'd  rather  be  left  alone  for  a  while,  till  she 
recovers  her  ordinary  colour.  I  felt  very  sorry  for  her 
on  the  boat,  and  if  I  could  have  done  anything — " 

"  That  sort  of  sympathy  and  delicacy  of  feeling  is  all 
very  fane,  Major;  but  I  tell  you  plainly  that  if  it  leads 
to  your  refusing  to  give  the  poor  girl  any  lunch  she  won't 
appreciate  it." 

"  Couldn't  you  land  the  luncheon  basket  and  then  come 
back  here  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not.  Then  7  should  get  no  luncheon.  I 
don't  shrink  from  sacrifice  in  a  good  cause,  Major,  when- 
ever sacrifice  is  necessary ;  but  I  see  no  point  in  starving 
myself  merely  to  satisfy  your  ridiculous  ideas  of 
chivalry." 

"  Well,  then,  you  go  and  give  them  their  lunch,  and 
leave  me  here." 

"  That's  the  worst  plan  you've  suggested  yet,"  said 


I io  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

Meldon.  "  If  I  go  without  you  I  shall  be  a  damper  on 
the  whole  proceedings.  A  third  person  on  these  occasions 
always  finds  the  greatest  difficulty  in  not  being  in  the  way, 
whereas  if  you  come  we  can  stroll  off  together  after 
lunch  under  pretext  of  searching  for  lobsters  or  some- 
thing of  that  kind,  and  leave  the  happy  couple  to- 
gether." 

"  Happy  couple !  "  said  the  Major.     "  They  look  it." 

"  Get  into  the  punt  at  once,"  said  Meldon,  "  and  don't 
try  to  be  sarcastic.  Nothing  is  less  becoming  to  you. 
Your  proper  part  in  life  is  that  of  the  sober,  well-in- 
tentioned, somewhat  thick-headed,  bachelor  uncle.  You 
do  that  excellently ;  but  the  moment  you  try  to  be  clever 
you  give  yourself  away  piteously." 

"  Your  own  part,  I  suppose,  J.  J.,  is  that  of  irresponsible 
buffoon." 

"  No ;  it's  not.  What  I  do  best  is  just  what  I'm  doing 
— arranging  things  for  other  people  so  that  difficulties  and 
unpleasantness  disappear,  and  life  looks  bright  again." 

Major  Kent  had  provided  an  excellent  luncheon  for 
the  party,  and  Miss  Kent  had  revived  rapidly  since  she 
landed.  She  allowed  herself  to  be  persuaded  to  drink 
some  weak  whisky  and  water.  Afterwards  she  ate  cold 
chicken  with  a  good  appetite.  Poor  Simpkins  was  less 
fortunate.  He  insisted  on  wearing  his  damp  hat,  and 
could  not  be  persuaded  to  eat  anything  except  biscuits. 
Meldon,  who  was  most  anxious  to  restore  him  to  a 
condition  of  vigour,  pressed  a  tomato  on  him;  but  the 
result  was  unfortunate.  After  eating  half  of  it,  Simp- 
kins  turned  his  back  even  on  the  biscuit  tin.  He  refused 
to  smoke  after  lunch,  although  the  Major  and  Meldon 
lit  their  pipes  in  an  encouraging  way  quite  close  to  him, 
and  Miss  King  appeared  to  find  pleasure  in  a  cigarette. 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  in 

The  situation  was  not  promising ;  but  Meldon  was  a  man 
of  unquenchable  hope.  Seizing  a  moment  when  Miss 
King  was  looking  in  another  direction,  he  winked  violently 
at  Major  Kent.  The  Major  was  extremely  comfortably 
seated  with  his  back  against  a  rock,  and  was  enjoying 
himself.  The  Spindrift  lay  secure  at  her  anchor.  The 
sun  shone  pleasantly.  An  after  luncheon  pipe  is  a 
particularly  enjoyable  one,  and  Miss  King  was  talking  in 
a  very  charming  way,  besides  looking  pretty.  The 
Major  was  disinclined  to  move,  and  although  he  guessed 
at  the  meaning  of  Meldon's  wink,  he  deliberately  ignored 
it.  Meldon  winked  again.  Then  he  rose  to  his  feet, 
shook  himself,  and  looked  round  him. 

"  I  think,  Major,"  he  said,  "  that  if  we  mean  to  catch 
any  lobsters  to-day,  we  ought  to  be  starting." 

The  Major  grunted. 

"Lobsters!  Can  we  catch  lobsters  here?"  said  Miss 
King.  "  I  should  like  to  help.  I  have  never  caught  a 
lobster." 

"  It's  not  exactly  a  sport  for  ladies,"  said  Meldon. 
"  The  lobster  is  an  ugly  fish  to  tackle  unless  you  are 
accustomed  to  him.  Besides,  we  shall  have  to  take  off 
our  shoes  and  stockings." 

"  But  I  only  mean  to  look  on.  I  shouldn't  run  any 
risks." 

She  had  in  her  mind  at  the  moment  a  scene  in  her 
new  novel  into  which  lobster  fishing,  as  practised  in  the 
west  of  Ireland,  might  be  introduced  with  great  effect. 
The  idea  that  there  was  some  risk  about  the  sport  added 
to  its  value  for  her  purpose.  She  foresaw  the  possibility 
of  vividly  picturesque  descriptions  of  bare-limbed,  sun- 
tanned, muscular  folk  plunging  among  weedy  rocks,  or 
spattered  with  yellow  spume,  staggering  shorewards 


H2  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

under  a  load  of  captured  lobsters.  But  Meldon  was 
most  unsympathetic. 

"  Besides,"  he  said,  "  the  chief  haunt  of  the  lobsters 
is  at  the  other  side  of  the  island,  quite  a  long  way  off." 

"  I  should  like  the  walk,"  said  Miss  King,  "  and  I'm 
sure  there's  a  charming  view." 

"  It's  very  rough,"  said  Meldon,  "  and  you'd  get  your 
feet  wet." 

He  nudged  the  Major  as  he  spoke.  It  did  not  seem 
fair  that  the  making  of  all  the  excuses  should  be  left  to 
him. 

"  I  really  believe,"  said  Miss  King,  "  that  you  don't 
want  me  to  go  with  you,  Mr.  Meldon.  It's  most  unkind 
of  you.  I'm  beginning  to  think  that  you  don't  like  me. 
You  said  something  quite  rude  to  me  the  other  day,  and 
I  don't  believe  half  you're  saying  to  me  now. — It's  not 
dangerous  to  catch  lobsters,  is  it,  Major  Kent?  " 

The  Major  felt  Meldon's  eye  on  him.  He  was  also 
aware  that  Miss  King  was  looking  at  him  appealingly. 

"  No,"  he  said ;  "  at  least,  not  very ;  not  if  you're 
careful  about  the  way  you  take  hold  of  them." 

"  And  I  shouldn't  get  my  feet  wet,  should  I  ?  not  very 
wet?" 

"  No,"  said  the  Major,  "  or  you  might,  of  course. 
There's  a  sort  of  pool  at  the  other  side  of  the  island,  and 
if  you  walk  through  it — ;  but  then  you  could  go  round  it." 

"  There  now,"  said  Miss  King.  "  I  knew  you  were 
only  making  excuses,  Mr.  Meldon." 

"  I  was,"  said  Meldon.  "  I  may  as  well  own  up  to  it 
that  I  was.  My  real  reason  for  not  wishing  you  to 
come  with  us — " 

He  edged  over  to  where  Simpkins  was  sitting,  and 
kicked  him  sharply  in  the  ribs.  It  was,  after  all,  Simp- 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  113 

• 
kins'  business  to  make  some  effort  to  retain  Miss  King. 

"  My  real  reason,"  he  said,  "  though  I  didn't  like  to 
mention  it  before,  is  that  there's  a  dead  sheep  on  the 
other  side  of  the  island,  just  above  the  lobster  bed.  It's 
a  good  deal  decayed,  and  the  sea-gulls  have  been  picking 
at  it." 

Miss  King  shuddered. 

"Is  there  a  dead  sheep,  Major  Kent?"  she  asked. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  the  Major.  "  I  haven't  been  on 
this  island  for  years ;  and  I  don't  believe  you  have  either, 

J.  J-" 

"  Dr.  O'Donoghue  told  me  about  it  yesterday,"  said 

Meldon.  "  He  said  it  was  a  most  disgusting  sight.  I 
don't  think  you'd  like  it,  Miss  King.  I  don't  like  telling 
you  about  it.  I'm  sure  a  glance  at  it  would  upset  you 
again — after  this  morning,  you  know." 

Miss  King  was  evidently  annoyed  by  this  allusion  to 
her  sea  sickness,  but  she  was  not  inclined  to  give  up  her 
walk. 

"  Couldn't  we  go  somewhere  else  for  lobsters,"  she 
said ;  "  somewhere  a  good  way  off  from  the  dead  sheep  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Meldon  decisively.  "  We  shouldn't  catch 
any  if  we  did.  All  the  lobsters,  as  you  can  easily  under- 
stand, will  have  collected  near  the  dead  sheep.  It's  a 
great  find  for  them,  you  know,  as  well  as  for  the  sea- 
gulls." 

"  In  any  case,"  said  Miss  King,  who  felt  that  she  could 
not  with  decency  press  her  company  on  Meldon  any 
more,  "  I'd  rather  stay  where  I  am.  I  don't  think  I  care 
for  crossing  the  island  after  all." 

Meldon  kicked  Simpkins  again.  Then  he  took  Major 
Kent  by  the  arm,  dragged  him  to  his  feet,  and  set  off  at 
a  rapid  pace  across  the  island. 


114  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  J.  J.,"  said  the  Major,  "  these  plans  of  yours  are  all 
very  well,  and  of  course  I'm  not  going  to  interfere  with 
them,  but  I  don't  see  any  necessity  for  being  actually 
rude  to  Miss  King.  She  strikes  me  as  being  a  very  nice 
girl." 

"  I  am  disappointed  in  Miss  King,"  said  Meldon.  "  I 
thought  better  of  her  before.  She's  not  what  I  call 
womanly,  and  I  hate  these  unsexed  females." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  I  suppose  you  think  she  had 
no  right  to  try  and  force  herself  on  us,  but  I  thought — " 

"  I'm  not  complaining  of  that  in  the  least,"  said  Meldon. 
"  That  was  quite  natural,  and  not  at  all  what  I  call  un- 
womanly. In  fact,  most  women  would  have  acted  just 
as  she  did  in  that  respect.  What  I  was  thinking  of  was 
those  famous  lines  of  Sir  Walter  Scott's.  You  recollect 
the  ones  I  mean,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"No;  I  don't." 

"  '  Oh,  woman,'  "  said  Meldon,  "  '  in  our  hours  of  ease ' 
— that's  now,  Major,  so  far  as  we're  concerned — '  un- 
certain, coy,  and  hard  to  please.'  That's  what  Miss  King 
ought  to  have  been,  but  wasn't.  Nobody  can  say  she  was 
coy  about  the  lobsters.  '  When  pain  and  anguish  wring 
the  brow.'  That's  the  position  in  which  Simpkins  finds 
himself.  '  A  ministering  angel  thou.'  That's  what  Miss 
King  should  be  if  she's  what  I  call  a  true  woman,  a 
womanly  woman.  But  she  evidently  isn't.  She  hasn't 
the  maternal  instinct  at  all  strongly  developed.  If  she 
had,  her  heart  would  bleed  for  a  helpless,  unprotected 
creature  like  Simpkins,  whose  brow  is  being  wrung  with 
the  most  pitiable  anguish." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say,"  said  the  Major,  "  that  you 
think  she  ought  to  take  a  pleasure  in  holding  that  beast 
Simpkins'  head  ?  " 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  115 

"  That,  though  you  put  it  coarsely,  is  exactly  what  I 
do  mean.  Any  true  woman  would.  Sir  Walter  Scott 
distinctly  says  so." 

"  Considering  what  you  believe  about  her — I  mean  all 
that  about  her  and  Mrs.  Lorimer  being  the  same  person, 
and  her  wanting  to  kill  Simpkins — I  don't  see  how  you 
can  expect  her  to  be  what  you  call  womanly." 

"There  you're  wrong,  Major;  quite  wrong,  as  usual. 
There's  no  reason  in  the  world  why  a  woman  shouldn't 
be  womanly  just  because  she  happens  to  hold  rather 
advanced  opinions  on  some  ethical  subjects.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  it  came  out  in  the  trial  that  Mrs.  Lorimer  was 
devotedly  attentive  to  her  husband,  her  last  husband, 
during  his  illness.  She  watched  him  day  and  night, 
and  wouldn't  allow  any  one  else  to  bring  him  his 
medicine.  I  naturally  thought  she'd  display  the  same 
spirit  with  regard  to  Simpkins.  I  hope  she  will  after 
they're  married;  but  I'm  disappointed  in  her  just  at 
present." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  about  the  lobsters,  J.  J.  ?  " 
said  the  Major,  dropping  the  subject  of  Miss  King's 
character.  "  You  know  very  well  that  there  are  none  on 
the  island,  and  after  all  you  said  about  their  swarming 
about  in  a  lobster  bed,  Miss  King  will  naturally  expect 
us  to  bring  her  back  a  few." 

"  No,  she  won't.  Not  when  she  knows  that  they've 
been  feeding  on  the  disgusting  and  half-decayed  dead 
sheep.  She'd  hate  to  see  one." 

"  What  made  you  think  of  saying  there  was  a  dead 
sheep,  J.  J.  ?  " 

"  I  had  to  think  of  something,"  said  Meldon,  "  or  else 
she'd  have  come  with  us.  You  contradicted  every  word 
I  said,  and  gave  the  show  away,  although  you  knew  very 


ii6  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

well  the  extreme  importance  of  giving  Simpkins  his 
chance." 

"  I  don't  think  he  looked  much  like  taking  it  when  we 
left." 

"  No,  he  didn't.  A  more  helpless,  incompetent  idiot 
than  Simpkins  I  never  came  across.  He  won't  do  a 
single  thing  to  help  himself.  I  suppose  he  expects  me 
to —  I'll  tell  you  what  it  is,  Major;  I  had  some  regard 
for  Simpkins  before  to-day,  but  I'm  beginning  to  agree 
with  you  and  Doyle  about  him  now." 

"  Then  perhaps  you'll  stop  trying  to  get  him  to  marry 
Miss  King." 

"  No,  I  won't.  My  coming  round  to  your  way  of 
thinking  is  all  the  more  reason  for  marrying  him.  As 
long  as  I  had  any  regard  for  him  I  felt  it  was  rather  a 
pity  to  have  him  killed,  and  I  was  only  doing  it  to  please 
you.  Now  that  I  see  he  really  doesn't  deserve  to  live 
I  can  go  on  with  a  perfectly  clear  conscience." 

"  Any  way,"  said  the  Major,  "  I  don't  believe  that  he'll 
do  much  love-making  to-day." 

"  Don't  be  too  sure  of  that.  If  Miss  King  is  behaving 
now  as  she  ought  to  be ;  if  she  has  taken  that  wet  hat  off 
his  head  and  stopped  it  wringing  his  brow;  if,  as  I 
confidently  expect,  she  is  showing  herself  a  ministering 
angel,  we  shall  most  likely  find  them  sitting  in  a  most 
affectionate  attitude  when  we  get  back." 

Miss  King  did  not  do  her  duty.  When  Meldon  and 
Major  Kent  returned,  lobsterless,  after  half  an  hour's 
absence,  they  found  Mr.  Simpkins  sitting  on  a  stone  by 
himself  with  the  wet  hat  still  on  his  head.  Miss  King 
was  a  long  way  off,  stumbling  about  among  the  stones  at 
the  water's  edge.  She  may,  perhaps,  have  been  trying  to 
catch  lobsters. 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  117 

The  voyage  home  was  most  unpleasant  for  every  one 
except  Meldon.  The  wind  had  risen  slightly  since  morn- 
ing, and  the  motion  of  the  yacht  in  running  before  it 
was  very  trying.  Mr.  Simpkins  collapsed  at  once  and 
was  dragged  by  Meldon  into  the  cabin,  where  he  lay  in 
speechless  misery.  Miss  King  held  out  bravely  for  some 
time,  and  then  gave  way  suddenly.  Major  Kent,  watch- 
ing her,  was  very  unhappy,  and  did  not  dare  to  smoke 
lest  he  should  make  her  worse.  He  attempted  at  one 
time  to  wrap  her  in  an  oilskin  coat,  thinking  that  addi- 
tional warmth  might  be  good  for  her;  but  the  smell  of 
the  garment  brought  on  a  violent  spasm,  and  he  was 
obliged  to  take  it  away  from  her  shoulders. 

In  the  evening,  after  Miss  King  and  Mr.  Simpkins 
had  been  sent  home  on  a  car,  Meldon  reviewed  the  day's 
proceedings. 

"  As  a  pleasure  party,"  he  said,  "  it  wasn't  exactly  a 
success;  but  then  we  didn't  go  out  for  pleasure.  Con- 
sidered as  a  step  in  advance  towards  the  marriage  of  Miss 
King  and  the  death  of  Simpkins,  it  hasn't  turned  out  all 
we  hoped.  Still  I  think  something  is  accomplished. 
Miss  King  must,  I  think,  have  felt  some  pity  for  Simp- 
kins  when  she  saw  me  dragging  him  into  the  cabin  by 
his  leg,  and  we  all  know  that  pity  is  akin  to — " 

"  If  she  thinks  of  him  in  that  sort  of  way,"  said  the 
Major,  "  she  won't  kill  him." 

"  I've  told  you  before,"  said  Meldon — "  in  fact,  I'm 
tired  telling  you — that  she  hasn't  got  to  kill  him  until 
after  she's  married  him.  You  don't  surely  want  her  to 
be  guilty  of  one  of  those  cold-blooded,  loveless  marriages 
which  are  the  curse  of  modern  society  and  end  in  the 
divorce  court.  She  ought  to  have  some  feeling  of  affec- 
tion for  him  before  she  marries  him,  and  I  think  it  is 


Ii8  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

probably  aroused  in  her  now.  No  woman  could  possibly 
see  a  man  treated  as  I  treated  Simpkins  this  afternoon 
without  feeling  a  little  sorry  for  him.  I  bumped  his  head 
in  the  most  frightful  manner  when  I  was  dragging  him 
down.  No;  I  think  it's  all  right  now  as  far  as  Miss 
King  is  concerned.  I'll  go  in  and  see  Simpkins  to-mor- 
row and  spur  him  on  a  bit.  I'll  tell  him — " 

"  Some  lie  or  other — "  said  the  Major. 

"  Only  for  his  own  good,"  said  Meldon.  "  I  saw  quite 
plainly  on  Sunday  that  he  wanted  to  marry  Miss  King, 
and  whatever  I  say  to-morrow  will  be  calculated  to  help 
and  encourage  him.  You  can't  call  that  kind  of  thing 
telling  lies.  It's  exactly  the  same  in  principle  as  why 
a  good  doctor  tries  to  cheer  up  a  patient  by  saying  that 
he'll  be  perfectly  well  in  the  inside  of  a  week  after  a 
trifling  operation.  Everybody  admits  that  that's  per- 
fectly right,  and  nobody  but  a  fool  would  call  it  a  lie." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

AJOR,"  said  Meldon,  "I  find  myself  obliged 
to  go  to  Donard  to-day." 

"  Good  gracious,  J.  J.,  what  on  earth  for  ?  Donard  is 
the  most  miserable  hole  of  a  place.  Except  that  it's  our 
nearest  railway  station,  I  can't  imagine  why — " 

"  I  know  what  Donard  is  quite  as  well  as  you  do. 
Nothing  but  a  stern  sense  of  duty  or  the  necessity  for 
catching  a  train  would  take  me  there.  In  this  case  it's 
duty." 

"Duty?" 

"Doyle  told  me  last  night,"  said  Meldon,  "that  he's 
expecting  a  man  at  his  hotel  to-day;  the  man  who  has 
taken  the  fishing.  When  I  tell  you  that  his  name  is  Sir 
Gilbert  Hawkesby,  you'll  understand  at  once  why  I  am 
going  to  Donard  to  meet  him." 

"  Is  he  a  friend  of  yours,  J.  J.  ?  I  never  heard  you 
speak  of  him." 

"  I  never  saw  him  in  my  life.  The  reason  I  must  meet 
him  is  that  he's  the  judge  who  tried  Mrs.  Lorimer." 

"Oh,  is  he?" 

"  Yes,  he  is.  Therefore  he  can't  be  allowed  to  come 
here.  And  I'm  going  to  stop  him." 

"  I  don't  see  what  business  it  is  of  yours,  J.  J.,  whether 
he  comes  here  or  not." 

"9 


120  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  Your  crass  stupidity,"  said  Meldon,  "  sometimes 
amazes  me  even  now;  and  I've  known  you  for  years. 
Don't  you  see  that  if  that  judge  comes  here  he's  abso- 
lutely bound  to  meet  Miss  King,  and  then  he'll  let  out 
the  poor  girl's  miserable  secret.  Once  that  is  public 
property  Simpkins  will  throw  her  over,  and  very  likely 
break  her  heart.  That  fellow  has  no  sense  of  honour 
where  women  are  concerned.  He'd  seize  on  any  paltry 
excuse — " 

"  I  don't  like  Simpkins,"  said  the  Major,  "  but  I'm 
bound  to  say  I  think  he'd  be  more  or  less  justified  in 
keeping  clear  of  Miss  King  if  all  that  ridiculous  theory 
of  yours  turned  out  to  be  true.  But  I  don't  quite  see 
how  you  mean  to  stop  the  judge.  If  he  gets  as  far  as 
Donard  and  has  taken  the  fishing — " 

"  I'm  taking  O'Donoghue  with  me,"  said  Meldon,  "  and 
we're  cycling  over." 

"  O'Donoghue !     But  why—  ?  " 

"  O'Donoghue  is  one  of  the  many  people  who  want  to 
have  Simpkins  killed  and  therefore  he's  interested  in 
keeping  the  judge  out  of  Ballymoy." 

"  I  don't  profess  to  understand  what  you're  at  in  the 
least,"  said  the  Major,  "but  there's  no  use  talking  to 
you.  If  you've  made  up  your  mind  to  go  you  will  go." 

"  As  a  matter  of  fact  I'm  off  at  once,"  said  Meldon. 
"  I've  borrowed  Doyle's  bicycle  for  the  day,  and  O'Don- 
oghue's  to  meet  me  at  the  hotel.  You  may  expect  me 
for  dinner.  Good-bye." 

Sir  Gilbert  Hawkesby  got  out  of  the  train  at  Donard 
station,  which  is  the  terminus  of  this  branch  of  the  rail- 
way, and  the  nearest  station  to  Ballymoy.  He  had  tele- 
graphed to  the  hotel  for  luncheon,  and  given  orders  that 
a  car  should  be  ready  to  drive  him  over  to  Ballymoy.  He 


(THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  121 

was  accosted  on  the  platform  by  two  strangers.  He  eyed 
them  with  some  surprise.  The  one  was  a  shabby,  red- 
haired  clergyman,  with  a  bristling  moustache  and  a  strik- 
ingly battered  hat.  He  looked  about  thirty  years  of  age. 
The  other  was  a  slightly  older  man,  dressed  in  a  seedy 
grey  suit  and  a  pair  of  surprisingly  bright  yellow  gaiters. 

"  Sir  Gilbert  Hawkesby,  I  presume  ?  "  said  Meldon. 

"Yes,"  said  the  judge;  "  I  am  Sir  Gilbert  Hawkesby." 

"  This,"  said  Meldon,  "  is  my  friend  Dr.  O'Donoghue, 
medical  officer  of  health  for  the  Poor  Law  Union  of 
Ballymoy,  a  man  greatly  respected  in  the  neighbourhood 
for  his  scientific  attainments,  and  the  uncompromising 
honesty  of  his  character.  I  need  scarcely  remind  you, 
Sir  Gilbert,  that  the  two  things  don't  always  go  together." 

Dr.  O'Donoghue  bowed  and  took  off  his  cap. 

"And  you?"  said  the  judge.  "May  I  ask  who  you 
are?" 

"  It  doesn't  really  matter  who  I  am,"  said  Meldon. 
"  The  important  fact  for  you  to  grasp  is  that  O'Donoghue 
is  the  officer  of  health  of  the  Union  of  Ballymoy.  That's 
what  you  are,  isn't  it,  O'Donoghue  ?  " 

"  It  is,"  said  O'Donoghue. 

"  I'll  make  a  note  of  it  at  once,"  said  the  judge. 

"  A  mental  note  will  do,"  said  Meldon.  "  You  needn't 
bother  writing  it  down.  If  you  happen  to  forget  it  in 
the  course  of  our  conversation,  you've  only  got  to  men- 
tion that  you  have  and  I'll  tell  it  to  you  again." 

"  Thanks,"  said  the  judge.  "  I'm  so  glad  that  we  are 
to  have  a  conversation.  When  shall  we  begin  ?  " 

Sir  Gilbert  was  enjoying  Meldon  very  much  so  far. 
He'd  never  before  come  across  any  one  exactly  like  this 
clergyman,  and  he  wanted  to  see  more  of  him. 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Meldon,  "  as  what  we  have  to  say 


122  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

is  of  a  strictly  private  kind,  and  may  turn  out  to  be  ac- 
tually libellous,  we'd  better  go  down  to  the  hotel." 

"  Certainly,"  said  the  judge.  "  I've  ordered  luncheon 
there.  If  you  and  the  medical  officer  of  health  will  join 
me  I  shall  be  delighted.  After  luncheon  I  shall  have  to 
leave  you,  I'm  afraid.  I  have  a  long  drive  before  me. 
I'm  on  my  way  to  Ballymoy." 

"  When  you've  heard  what  we  have  to  say,"  said  Mel- 
don,  "  you  won't  go  to  Ballymoy." 

"  I  expect  I  shall,"  said  the  judge.  "  But  of  course 
I  don't  know  yet  what  form  your  libel  is  going  to  take. 
Still,  I  can  hardly  imagine  that  the  defamation  of  any 
one's  character  will  keep  me  out  of  Ballymoy.  I  have  a 
car  waiting  for  me  outside  the  station,  but  I'm  afraid  I 
cannot  offer  to  drive  you  down  to  the  hotel.  I  have  a 
good  deal  of  luggage." 

"  As  far  as  the  luggage  is  concerned,"  said  Meldon, 
"  you  may  just  as  well  leave  it  here.  There's  no  point  in 
dragging  a  lot  of  trunks  and  fishing-rods  down  to  the 
hotel  when  you'll  simply  have  to  drag  them  all  back 
again.  When  you've  heard  what  we  have  to  say  you'll 
take  the  next  train  home." 

"  I  don't  expect  I  shall.  In  fact,  I  feel  tolerably  cer- 
tain I  shall  go  on.  I'll  take  the  luggage  with  me  any  how, 
in  case  I  do." 

"  You  mustn't  think,"  said  Meldon,  "  that  I'm  suggest- 
ing your  leaving  the  luggage  behind  simply  in  order  to 
get  a  seat  on  your  car." 

"  I  assure  you,"  said  the  judge,  "  that  such  a  suspicion 
never  crossed  my  mind." 

"  O'Donoghue  and  I  both  have  bicycles,  so  we  don't 
want  to  drive.  He  has  his  own,  a  capital  machine,  and 
I  borrowed  Doyle's  this  morning,  which  is  quite  sound 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  123 

except  for  the  left  pedal.     It's  a  bit  groggy,  and  came  off 
twice  on  the  way  here." 

"  That  makes  me  all  the  more  sorry  I  can't  drive  you 
down,"  said  the  judge,  "  but  you  see  what  a  lot  of  things 
I  have.  I  needn't  say  good-bye :  we  shall  meet  again  at 
the  hotel." 

Luncheon — chops  and  boiled  potatoes — was  served  in 
the  commercial  room  of  the  hotel.  When  the  maid  had 
gone  away  after  supplying  the  three  men  with  whisky 
and  soda,  Meldon  laid  down  his  knife  and  fork. 

"  I  may  introduce  my  subject,"  he  said,  "  by  saying 
that  I  have  a  high  respect  for  you.  So  has  O'Donoghue. 
Haven't  you,  O'Donoghue  ?  " 

"  I  have,"  said  O'Donoghue. 

"Thanks,"  said  the  judge.  "It's  kind  of  you  both 
to  say  that." 

"  Not  at  all ;  it's  the  simple  truth.  I  look  up  to  you 
a  good  deal  in  your  capacity  of  judge.  Judge  of  the 
King's  Bench,  I  think?" 

The  judge  nodded. 

"  In  order  to  make  my  position  quite  plain,"  said  Mel- 
don, "  and  to  prevent  any  possibility  of  your  thinking 
that  I'm  meddling  with  your  affairs  in  an  unwarrantable 
manner,  I  may  add  that  I  recognise  in  you  one  of  the 
pillars  of  society,  a  bulwark  of  01-  •  civil  and  religious 
liberty,  a  mainstay  of  law  and  order.  So  does  O'Don- 
oghue." 

"  I'm  a  Nationalist  myself,"  said  the  doctor,  who  felt 
that  he  was  being  committed  to  sentiments  which  he 
could  not  entirely  approve. 

"  I'm  speaking  of  Sir  Gilbert  as  an  English  judge," 
said  Meldon,  "  and  the  law  and  order  I  refer  to  are,  so 
far  as  Sir  Gilbert  is  concerned,  purely  English.  Nothing 


124  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

that  I  am  saying  now  compromises  you  in  the  slightest 
either  with  regard  to  the  land  question  or  Home  Rule." 

"  I  didn't  understand  that  at  the  time  you  spoke,"  said 
the  doctor ;  "  but  if  you  don't  mean  any  more  than  that 
I'm  with  you  heart  and  soul." 

"  You  hear  what  he  says,"  said  Meldon  to  the  judge. 

"  I  need  scarcely  say,"  replied  Sir  Gilbert,  "  that  all 
this  is  immensely  gratifying  to  me." 

"  It  won't  surprise  you  now,"  said  Meldon,  "  to  hear 
that  we  look  upon  your  life  as  a  most  valuable  one — 
too  valuable  to  be  risked  unnecessarily." 

"  I  should  appreciate  this  entirely  unsolicited  testi- 
monial," said  the  judge,  "  even  more  than  I  do  already, 
if  I  knew  exactly  who  was  giving  it  to  me." 

"  I  don't  suppose  that  you'd  be  much  the  wiser  if  I 
tell  you  that  my  name  is  Meldon — J.  J.  Meldon.  I  was 
at  one  time  curate  of  Ballymoy." 

"  Thanks,"  said  the  judge.  "  Won't  you  go  on  with 
your  luncheon  ?  I'm  afraid  your  chop  will  be  cold." 

"  I  have,"  said  Meldon,  "  a  duty  to  perform.  I  don't 
mind  in  the  least  if  my  chop  does  get  cold.  I  wish  to 
warn  you  that  your  life,  your  valuable  life — and  I  never 
realised  how  valuable  your  life  was  until  I  read  your 
summing-up  in  the  case  of  Mrs.  Lorimer.  That  was, 
if  I  may  say  so,  masterly.  Milton  himself  couldn't  have 
done  it  better." 

"  Milton?  "  said  the  judge. 

"  I  mentioned  Milton,"  said  Meldon,  "  because  he  was 
the  most  violent  misogynist  I  ever  heard  of.  Read  what 
he  says  about  Delilah  in  '  Samson  Agonistes  '  and  you'll 
see  why  I  compare  your  remarks  about  Mrs.  Lorimer 
to  the  sort  of  way  he  wrote." 

"  I've  read  it,"  said  the  judge,  "  and  I  think  I  recollect 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  125 

the  passages  you  allude  to.  I  don't  quite  see  myself  what 
connection  there  is  between  his  views  and  the  case  of 
Mrs.  Lorimer.  Still,  I'm  greatly  obliged  to  you  for  what 
you  say  about  my  summing-up.  But  you  were  speaking 
of  my  life  just  before  you  mentioned  Milton." 

"  The  connection  is  obvious  enough,"  said  Meldon ; 
"  and  if  you've  really  read  the  poem — " 

"  I  have,"  said  the  judge. 

"  Then  you  ought  to  recognise  that  the  strong  anti- 
feminist  bias  which  Milton  displays  is  exactly  similar  to 
the  spirit  in  which  you  attributed  the  worst  possible  mo- 
tives to  Mrs.  Lorimer.  I'm  not  now  entering  on  a  dis- 
cussion of  the  question  of  whether  you  and  Milton  are 
right  or  wrong  in  your  view  of  women.  That  would 
take  too  long,  and,  besides,  it  hasn't  anything  to  do  with 
the  business  on  hand." 

"  That,"  said  the  judge,  "  as  well  as  I  recollect,  is  the 
danger  of  my  losing  my  life." 

"  Your  life,"  said  Meldon,  "  will  not  be  safe  in  Bally- 
moy.  We  met  you  at  the  station  to-day  in  order  to 
warn  you  to  go  straight  home  again." 

"  Really !  "  said  the  judge.  "  I  travelled  down  from 
London  with  a  Member  of  Parliament  last  night,  and  he 
gave  me  a  description  of  the  state  of  the  country  which 
bears  out  what  you  say.  He  mentioned  anarchy  and 
conspiracy  as  being  rampant — or  else  rife;  I  forget  for 
the  moment  which  word  he  used.  He  said  that  the  west 
of  Ireland  lay  at  the  mercy  of  an  organised  system  of 
terrorism,  and  that — v 

"  That  must  have  been  a  Unionist,"  said  Meldon. 

"  Damned  lies,"  said  O'Donoghue. 

"He  was  a  Unionist,"  said  the  judge.  "But  I  met; 
another  man  in  the  steamer,  also  an  M.P.,  who  said  that, 


126  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

owing  to  the  beneficent  action  of  the  Congested  Districts 
Board,  Connacht  was  rapidly  becoming  a  happy  and  con- 
tented part  of  the  empire;  that  the  sympathy  with  Irish 
ideas  displayed  by  the  present  government  was  winning 
the  hearts  and  affections  of  the  people,  and — " 

"  That,"  said  Meldon,  "  must  have  been  a  Nationalist." 

"  More  damned  lies,"  said  Dr.  O'Donoghue. 

"  And  now,"  said  the  judge,  "  I  meet  you  two  gentle- 
men, one  of  you  a  Nationalist  and  the  other  a  Unionist — " 

"  Don't  call  me  that,"  said  Meldon ;  "  I'm  non-political. 
Nothing  on  earth  would  induce  me  to  mix  myself  up  with 
any  party." 

"  And  you,"  the  judge  went  on,  "  after  comparing  me 
in  the  most  flattering  manner  to  the  poet  Milton,  tell  me 
that  my  life  won't  be  safe  in  Ballymoy.  I'm  inclined  to 
think  that  the  best  thing  I  can  do  is  to  go  and  find  out 
the  truth  for  myself." 

"  If  it  was  simply  a  question  of  murder,"  said  Meldon, 
"  I  should  strongly  advise  you  to  go  on  and  see  the  thing 
through ;  but  what  we  have  in  mind  is  something  infinitely 
worse.  Isn't  it,  O'Donoghue  ?  " 

"  It  is,"  said  the  doctor ;  "  far  worse." 

"Is  it,"  said  the  judge,  "high  treason?  That's  the 
only  crime  I  know  which  the  law  regards  as  more  ma- 
lignant than  murder.  The  penalties  are  a  little  obsolete 
at  present,  for  nobody  has  ventured  to  commit  the  crime 
for  a  great  many  years ;  but  if  you  like  I'll  look  the  sub- 
ject up  when  I  go  home  and  let  you  know." 

"  We're  not  talking  about  crime,"  said  Meldon,  "  but 
drains.  Doyle's  drains." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  the  judge.  "  Did  you  say 
drains  ?  " 

"Yes,"    said    Meldon    distinctly.    "  Drains— Doyle's 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  127 

drains.  The  drains  of  the  house  you  mean  to  stop  in. 
I  needn't  tell  you  what  drains  mean.  Blood-poisoning, 
typhoid,  septic  throats,  breakings  out  in  various  parts  of 
your  body,  and  a  very  painful  kind  of  death.  For  al- 
though O'Donoghue  will  do  his  best  for  you  in  the  way 
of  mitigating  your  sufferings  he  can't  undertake  to  save 
your  life." 

"  I'm  pretty  tough,"  said  the  judge,  "  and  I'm  paying 
a  good  price  for  my  fishing.  I  think  I'll  face  the  drains." 

"  I  don't  expect  that  you  quite  realise  how  bad  those 
drains  are.  Does  he,  O'Donoghue  ?  " 

"  He  does  not,"  said  the  doctor. 

"Then  you  tell  him,"  said  Meldon.  "As  a  medical 
man  you'll  put  it  much  more  convincingly  than  I  can." 

O'Donoghue  cleared  his  throat. 

"  I've  no  doubt,"  said  the  judge,  "  that  you  can  make 
out  a  pretty  bad  case  against  those  drains ;  but  I'm  going 
on  to  Ballymoy  to  catch  salmon  if  they're  twice  as  rotten 
as  they  are." 

"It  was  only  last  winter,"  said  Meldon,  "that  Mr. 
Simpkins  wanted  to  prosecute  Doyle  on  account  of  the 
condition  of  his  drains.  You  probably  don't  know  Simp- 
kins;  but  if  you  did,  you'd  understand  that  he's  not  the 
kind  of  man  to  take  drastic  action  unless  the  drains  were 
pretty  bad." 

"  And  they're  worse  since,"  said  O'Donoghue. 

"  It's  extremely  kind  of  you,"  said  the  judge,  "  to  have 
come  all  this  way  to  warn  me,  and  of  course  if  I  knew 
Simpkins  I  might,  as  you  say,  act  differently.  But  I  think, 
on  the  whole,  I'll  go  on  and  risk  it.  If  I  do  get  a  septic 
throat  or  anything  of  the  kind  I  shall  send  at  once  for 
Dr.  O'Donoghue;  and  I  shall  ask  you,  Mr.  Meldon,  to 
write  an  obituary  notice  for  the  papers  in  case  I  sue- 


128  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

cumb.  I  am  sure  you'd  do  it  well,  and  you  could  put 
in  all  you  said  about  Delilah  and  Mrs.  Lorimer.  I  shan't 
mind  once  I'm  buried." 

"  You  won't  be  able  to  say  afterwards,"  said  Meldon, 
"  that  you  were  not  fairly  warned.  We've  done  our  duty 
whatever  happens." 

"  You've  done  it  in  the  most  thorough  way,"  said  the 
judge,  "  and  I  hope  I  shall  see  a  great  deal  of  you  while 
I'm  in  Ballymoy." 

"  I'll  just  finish  this  chop,"  said  Meldon,  "  and  then 
O'Donoghue  and  I  must  be  off.  We  have  a  long  ride 
before  us.  I'll  tell  Doyle  to  sprinkle  some  chloride  of 
lime  in  your  bedroom,  and  to  damp  the  sheets  with 
Condy's  Fluid.  I  don't  suppose  it  will  be  much  use,  but 
it's  the  best  we  can  do  if  your  mind  is  made  up." 


CHAPTER  XII 

MELDON  left  the  hotel  and  mounted  his  bicycle 
without  speaking  another  word.  He  rode  rap- 
idly out  of  the  town,  followed  at  some  distance  by 
O'Donoghue,  who  was  a  cyclist  of  inferior  strength  and 
energy.  For  the  first  four  miles  the  road  to  Ballymoy 
goes  steadily  up  hill.  Meldon,  gripping  his  handle-bars 
tightly,  rode  at  a  fast  rate.  O'Donoghue  was  left  further 
and  further  behind.  At  the  top  of  the  hill  Meldon  had 
a  lead  of  a  full  quarter  of  a  mile.  Then  the  left  pedal 
of  his  bicycle  came  off,  and  he  was  obliged  to  dismount. 
He  was  working  at  it  with  a  spanner  when  O'Donoghue, 
breathless  and  in  a  bad  temper,  came  up  with  him.  Mel- 
don greeted  him  cheerfully. 

"  Obstinate  old  swine  the  judge  is,"  he  said.  "  You 
would  have  thought  a  man  like  that  whose  business  in 
life  consists  very  largely  in  weighing  evidence,  and  who 
has  been  specially  trained  to  arrive  at  sound  conclusions 
from  the  facts  presented  to  him,  would  have  seen  the 
necessity  of  giving  up  this  ridiculous  expedition  of  his  to 
Ballymoy." 

"  Why  did  you  ride  on  like  that  and  leave  me  behind?  " 
said  O'Donoghue  shortly. 

"  If  I  were  inclined  to  be  captious  and  wanted  to  find 
fault,"  said  Meldon,  "  I  might  say  why  did  you  lag  be- 

129 


130  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

hind  and  leave  me  to  ride  by  myself?  I  don't  want  to 
ride  by  myself.  I  want  to  discuss  the  judge's  conduct." 

O'Donoghue  also  wanted  to  discuss  the  judge's  con- 
duct. He  was  even  more  anxious  to  find  out,  if  he  could, 
why  Meldon  disliked  the  idea  of  this  particular  judge 
paying  a  visit  to  Ballymoy.  He  recovered  his  temper 
with  an  effort. 

"  I  don't  think,"  he  said,  "  that  he  believed  a  word 
you  said  about  the  drains." 

"  That's  exactly  what  I'm  complaining  of.  He  ought 
to  have  believed  us.  According  to  all  the  rules  of  evi- 
dence, no  stronger  testimony  could  possibly  have  been 
offered  than  the  statements  of  a  clergyman  and  a  doctor, 
neither  of  whom  had  any  personal  interest  in  the  condi- 
tion of  the  drains.  Unless  we'd  brought  a  bottle  of 
water  out  of  Doyle's  well,  and  shown  him  the  bacilli 
swimming  about  in  it,  I  don't  see  what  more  we  could 
have  done." 

"  I  wish  I  knew,"  said  O'Donoghue,  "  exactly  why  it 
is  that  you  want  to  keep  Sir  Gilbert  out  of  Ballymoy. 
What  harm  is  there  for  him  to  do  if  he  comes  ?  " 

"  He  won't  do  me  any  harm  at  all.  In  fact  I  shall  be 
delighted  to  have  him  there.  He  struck  me  as  a  very 
intelligent  and  highly-educated  man.  You  saw  how  he 
caught  my  point  about  *  Samson  Agonistes '  at  once. 
Neither  you  nor  Doyle,  nor  for  the  matter  of  that  the 
Major,  would  have  known  in  the  least  what  I  was  talk- 
ing about.  A  man  like  that  about  the  place  would  be 
a  great  comfort  to  me.  I  should  have  some  one  to  talk 
to.  I  wish  I  could  get  you  all  to  understand  that  I'm 
acting  in  this  whole  business  from  purely  disinterested 
and  altruistic  motives.  7  don't  want  to  get  rid  of  Simp- 
kins.  You  and  Doyle  and  the  Major  do." 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  131 

"  The  thing  I  can't  understand,"  said  O'Donoghue,  "  is 
what  the  judge  has  to  do  with  Simpkins.  If  I  was  clear 
about  that —  What  I  mean  to  say  is  if  I  could  make  out 
why—" 

"  Thank  goodness,"  said  Meldon,  "  I've  got  that  beastly 
pedal  fixed  again.  Come  on,  doctor.  We  haven't  a 
minute  to  waste.  I  want  to  be  in  Ballymoy  a  clear  hour 
before  the  judge  arrives  there." 

He  mounted  the  bicycle  as  he  spoke,  and  rode  off  at 
full  speed.  The  slope  of  the  road  was  downwards  from 
the  place  of  the  halt,  and  O'Donoghue  was  able  to  keep 
close  to  Meldon  for  some  time.  He  made  a  number  of 
breathless  attempts  to  speak. 

"  If  you'd  only  tell  me,"  he  panted,  "  why—" 

Sometimes  he  got  a  little  further  than  the  "  why."  He 
never  succeeded  in  completely  finishing  his  sentence. 
After  a  while  he  began  to  drop  behind  again.  On  a  long 
level  stretch  of  road  Meldon  drew  rapidly  ahead  and 
might  have  reached  Ballymoy  a  whole  mile  in  front  of 
O'Donoghue  if  the  pedal  of  Doyle's  bicycle  had  not  failed 
him  again.  The  accident  gave  the  doctor  his  oppor- 
tunity. He  came  up  with  Meldon  and  asked  his  ques- 
tion. 

"What  difference  will  the  judge  make  to  Simpkins? 
That's  what  I  want  to  know,  and  I  won't  go  on  blind- 
fold doing  exactly  what  you  tell  me.  If  I  saw  my  way 
it  would  be  different." 

"  I  can't  explain  the  position  fully  to  you,"  said  Mel- 
don, "  without  giving  away  a  secret  which  isn't  really 
mine ;  a  secret  which  involves  the  honour  of  a  lady.  But 
when  I  tell  you  that  my  plan  for  getting  rid  of  Simpkins 
permanently,  involves  my  marrying  him  to  Miss  King, 
you'll  no  doubt  be  able  to  make  out  for  yourself  why  it 


I32  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

is  absolutely  necessary  to  keep  Sir  Gilbert  Hawkesby  out 
of  Ballymoy.  Any  intelligent  man,  able  to  put  two  and 
two  together,  ought  to  see  the  whole  thing,  especially  if 
he's  been  reading  the  newspapers." 

O'Donoghue  sat  down  on  the  bank  at  the  side  of  the 
road  and  thought  deeply.  Meldon  worked  vehemently 
at  the  pedal. 

"  I  can't  see  in  the  least  what  you're  at,"  said  O'Don- 
oghue at  last.  "  But  it  doesn't  matter.  If  your  plan  of 
making  Simpkins  marry  that  lady  depends  on  your  keep- 
ing the  judge  out  of  the  place,  then,  so  far  as  I  can 
see,  it's  done  for.  He's  coming  in  spite  of  you." 

"  My  plan  will  be  all  right,"  said  Meldon,  "  if  he 
doesn't  stay ;  and  I  think  he  won't  stay." 

"  He  doesn't  seem  to  mind  drains  a  bit ;  and  he'll  mind 
them  less  when  he  sees  them.  They're  bad,  of  course; 
but  they're  not  near  so  bad  as  you  made  out.  I  don't 
expect  a  man  that  age  will  catch  anything." 

"  I'm  not  now  relying  on  the  drains,"  said  Meldon. 
"  I  quite  give  in  that  they've  failed.  I'm  on  my  way 
back  to  make  other  arrangements  which  will  have  him 
out  of  Ballymoy  in  twenty-four  hours." 

"  You  mean  the  chloride  of  lime  in  his  bedroom." 

"  That  and  other  things.  I'm  convinced  that  we  run 
a  grave  risk  every  hour  he  spends  in  Ballymoy,  and  so 
I  shall  naturally  take  pretty  strong  measures  to  get  him 
out." 

"  Don't  mix  me  up  in  them  if  you  can  help  it.  I  backed 
you  up  about  the  drains,  but  for  a  man  in  my  position 
it  doesn't  do  to  go  too  far,  especially  with  a  judge." 

"  All  you  have  to  do,"  said  Meldon,  "  is  to  supply  the 
chloride  of  lime  and  the  Condy's  Fluid.  I  shan't  ask  you 
to  do  anything  else.  You  can't  complain  about  a  trifle 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  133 

like  that.  Most  men  would  do  a  great  deal  more  in  order 
to  get  rid  of  Simpkins." 

The  pedal  was  fixed  again.  Meldon  shook  it  violently 
to  make  sure  that  it  was  really  firm. 

"  I  hope,"  he  said,  "  it  will  stick  on  this  time.  These 
delays  are  most  exasperating  when  one's  in  a  hurry.  We 
shall  have  to  buck  up  now,  O'Donoghue,  and  ride  really 
fast." 

O'Donoghue  groaned.  He  had  been  riding  at  the  top 
of  his  speed  since  he  left  Donard,  and  there  were  still 
six  miles  between  him  and  Ballymoy.  Meldon  led  off 
at  a  racing  speed,  leaving  the  doctor  to  follow  him 
through  a  choking  cloud  of  dust.  About  three  miles  out- 
side Ballymoy,  O'Donoghue,  having  entirely  lost  sight 
of  Meldon,  sat  down  to  rest  on  the  side  of  the  road. 
The  pedal  was  holding  to  its  place,  and  he  had  no  hope 
of  seeing  his  companion  again. 

Meldon  propped  his  bicycle  up  outside  the  door  of  the 
hotel,  walked  into  the  hall,  and  shouted  for  Doyle. 

"  I  could  do,"  he  said,  "  with  a  cup  of  tea,  if  you'll 
be  so  good  as  to  tell  Sabina  Gallagher  to  make  it  for  me." 

"I'll  do  that,"  said  Doyle.  "I'd  do  more  than  that 
for  you,  Mr.  Meldon.  The  tea  will  be  laid  out  for  you 
in  the  commercial  room  in  five  minutes  if  so  be  Sabina 
has  the  kettle  on  the  boil,  and  it's  what  I'm  always  telling 
her  she  ought  to  see  to." 

"  I  don't  want  it  set  out  in  the  commercial  room,"  said 
Mr.  Meldon,  "  nor  yet  in  the  drawing-room.  I  want  to 
take  it  in  the  kitchen  along  with  Sabina." 

"  Is  it  in  the  kitchen  ?  Sure  that's  no  place  for  a  gen- 
tleman like  yourself  to  be  taking  his  tea." 

"  All  the  same  it's  there  I  mean  to  have  it.  The  fact 
is,  I  have  a  word  or  two  to  say  to  Sabina  privately." 


i34  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

Doyle  opened  a  door  at  the  end  of  the  hall  in  which 
they  stood,  and  shouted  down  a  long  passage: 

"  Sabina,  Sabina  Gallagher!  Are  you  listening  to  me? 
Very  well,  then.  Will  you  wet  some  tea  in  the  silver 
teapot  which  you'll  find  beyond  in — " 

"I'd  prefer  the  brown  one,"  said  Meldon,  " if  it's  all 
the  same  to  you.  I  hate  the  taste  of  plate-powder.  I 
don't  think  it's  likely  that  Sabina  has  been  wasting  her 
time  polishing  your  silver,  but  you  never  can  tell  what 
a  girl  like  that  would  do." 

"  In  the  brown  teapot,"  shouted  Doyle.  "  And  set  out 
a  cup  and  saucer  on  the  kitchen  table — " 

"  Two  cups,"  said  Meldon.  "  I  want  Sabina  to  join 
me,  so  that  I'll  be  sure  of  getting  her  in  a  good  temper." 

"  Two  cups,"  shouted  Doyle.  "  And  when  you  have 
that  done  be  off  and  clean  yourself  as  quick  as  you  can, 
for  the  Reverend  Mr.  Meldon  will  be  down  in  a  minute 
to  take  tea  with  you.  If  there  isn't  a  pot  of  jam  down 
below — and  it's  likely  you  have  it  ate  if  there  is — go  into 
the  shop  and  ask  for  one.  Is  it  strawberry  you'd  like, 
Mr.  Meldon?" 

"  That  or  raspberry,"  said  Meldon.  "  I  don't  care 
which.  And  now  I  want  to  say  a  word  or  two  to 
you." 

"  Come  inside,"  said  Doyle.  "  There  isn't  a  soul  in  the 
bar,  and  maybe  you'd  like  a  drop  of  something  before 
your  tea." 

"  I  would  not.  You  know  very  well,  Doyle,  that  I 
never  touch  whisky  before  my  meals,  especially  when 
I've  any  business  to  do ;  and  you  ought  to  be  ashamed  of 
yourself  for  offering  it  to  me." 

Doyle  pushed  forward  a  chair,  selected  another  for 
himself,  and  sat  down  opposite  Meldon. 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  135 

"  Is  it  about  the  judge  that's  coming  this  evening  that 
you  wanted  to  speak  to  me  ?  " 

"  It  is,"  said  Meldon. 

"  I  was  thinking  it  might  be.  When  you  asked  for  the 
loan  of  my  bicycle  this  morning,  and  told  me  that  you 
and  the  doctor  was  off  to  Donard  in  a  hurry,  I  made  full 
sure  it  was  him  you  were  after.  What  have  you  done 
with  the  doctor  ?  " 

"  He'll  be  here  in  a  few  minutes,"  said  Meldon,  "  and 
when  he  comes  he'll  give  you  some  chloride  of  lime  and 
a  bottle  of  Condy's  Fluid.  You're  to  sprinkle  the  lime 
on  the  floor  of  the  judge's  bedroom,  and  to  damp  the 
sheets  on  his  bed  with  a  solution  of  Condy's  Fluid. 
O'Donoghue  will  give  you  exact  directions  about  the 
quantities." 

"  And  what  would  that  be  for?  " 

"  The  judge  wants  it  done,"  said  Meldon,  "  and  that 
ought  to  be  enough  for  you." 

"  I  was  reading  a  bit  on  the  paper  one  day  about  what 
they  call  the  Christian  Science.  I  suppose,  now,  he'll  be 
one  of  them  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Meldon.  "  He's  not.  If  you'd  read  a  lit- 
tle more  carefully  you'd  have  understood  that  no  Chris- 
tian Scientist  would  walk  on  the  same  side  of  the  street 
as  a  bottle  of  Condy's  Fluid.  The  principal  article  of 
their  creed  is  that  there  are  no  such  things  as  germs,  con- 
sequently it's  mere  waste  of  time  trying  to  kill  them. 
And  as  Condy's  Fluid  exists  chiefly  for  the  purpose  of 
killing  germs,  it  strikes  the  Christian  Scientist  as  an  im- 
moral compound.  I  don't  know  exactly  what  religion 
your  judge  professes,  but  one  thing  is  clear  from  his  in- 
sisting on  Condy's  Fluid,  he's  not  a  Christian  Scientist." 

"  It's  as  well  he's  not,"  said  Doyle,     "  What  I  say,  and 


136  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

always  did  say,  is  this :  The  Catholic  religion  is  the  right 
religion,  meaning  no  offence  to  you,  Mr.  Meldon.  And 
the  Protestant  religion  is  a  good  religion  for  them  that's 
brought  up  to  it.  And  if  a  man  can't  make  up  his  mind 
to  one  or  other  of  the  two  of  them,  it's  better  for  him  not 
to  have  a  religion  at  all." 

"  Don't  let  your  interest  in  theological  controversy 
distract  your  attention  from  seeing  after  the  thorough 
disinfection  of  the  judge's  bedroom." 

"  I  will  not,"  said  Doyle ;  "  but  I'll  see  that  your  orders 
are  carried  out.  It's  a  queer  notion,  so  it  is,  to  be  sleep- 
ing in  damp  sheets.  But  a  man  like  that  ought  to  know 
what  suits  him." 

"  Right,"  said  Meldon.  "  And  now,  if  you'll  excuse 
me,  I'll  be  off  to  the  kitchen  and  have  my  tea.  You  keep 
your  eye  lifting  for  the  doctor,  and  get  those  things  out 
of  him  as  soon  as  you  can." 

Sabina  Gallagher,  blushing  and  embarrassed,  with  a 
clean  apron  on,  stood  with  her  back  against  the  dresser 
when  Meldon  entered  the  kitchen.  He  shook  hands  with 
her,  and  noticed  at  once  that  she  had  obeyed  her  mas- 
ters orders  and  made  some  effort  to  clean  herself.  Her 
hands  were  damp  and  cold. 

"  I'm  glad  to  see  you  looking  well,"  said  Meldon.  "  Is 
the  tea  ready  ?  " 

"  It  is,"  said  Sabina. 

Meldon  sat  down  and  poured  out  two  cups. 

"  Come  along,"  he  said,  "  and  keep  me  company." 

Sabina  sidled  towards  the  table. 

"  I'm  just  after  my  tea,"  she  said,  "  and  I'd  be  ashamed 
to  be  sitting  down  with  a  gentleman  like  yourself." 

"  Nonsense,"  said  Meldon,  "  I  want  to  talk  to  you,  and 
I  can't  do  that  if  you're  standing  there  in  the  middle 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  137 

of  the  floor  so  as  I'd  get  a  crick  in  my  neck  trying  to 
look  at  you.  Sit  down  at  once." 

Sabina  grinned  sheepishly  and  sat  down.  Meldon 
drank  off  his  cup  of  tea  at  a  draught,  and  poured  out  a 
second. 

"  Have  you  taken  the  advice  I  gave  you  the  other  jday, 
about  your  cooking  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Is  it  making  them  things  with  olives  ?  " 

"  It  is." 

"  Well,  I  have  not;  for  I  wouldn't  be  fit." 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  it,"  said  Meldon.  "  Circumstances 
have  arisen  since  I  last  saw  you  which  render  it  desirable 
that  you  should  cook  as  badly  as  possible  during  the  next 
few  days.  There's  a  judge  coming  here  this  evening." 

"  I  heard  Mr.  Doyle  saying  that  same,"  said  Sabina. 

"  And  he'll  be  expecting  some  sort  of  a  dinner  to- 
night." 

"  There's  a  chicken  ready  to  go  into  the  oven  for  him 
any  minute." 

"  What  you  have  to  do,"  said  Meldon,  "  is  to  see  that 
he  gets  as  bad  a  dinner  as  possible,  and  a  worse  break- 
fast to-morrow  morning." 

"Bad,  is  it?" 

"  Uneatable,"  said  Meldon.  "  Serve  him  up  food  that 
a  pig  wouldn't  look  at.  Can  you  do  that,  do  you  think  ?  " 

"  I  might,  of  course,"  said  Sabina ;  "  but — " 

"  Then  do." 

"  Sure  if  I  do  he'll  not  be  for  stopping  in  the  Hotel." 

"  Exactly,"  said  Meldon.    "  He's  not  wanted  to  stop." 

"  Mr.  Doyle  will  lacerate  me  after,  if  the  gentleman 
leaves,  and  the  language  he'll  use  will  be  what  I  wouldn't 
like  to  be  listening  to." 

"  Mr.  Doyle,"  said  Meldon,  "  may  take  that  view  at 


138  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

first.  He's  a  short-sighted  man,  and  is  inclined  to  con- 
sider only  the  immediate  present;  but,  in  giving  you  the 
directions  I  am  giving  about  the  judge's  food,  I  am 
acting  in  Mr.  Doyle's  best  interests.  I'm  looking  into 
the  future,  and  doing  what  will  be  best  for  Mr.  Doyle 
in  the  long  run.  After  a  while  he'll  come  to  understand 
that,  and  then  he'll  be  extremely  pleased  with  you,  and 
most  probably  he'll  raise  your  wages." 

"  He'll  not  do  that,"  said  Sabina  confidently. 

"  In  any  case,"  said  Meldon,  "  whatever  view  he 
ultimately  takes  of  your  action,  you  will  have  the  feeling 
that  you  are  securing  the  greatest  good  of  the  greatest 
number,  and  that's  a  reward  in  itself — a  much  better 
reward  than  a  few  shillings  extra  wages." 

"  It  might  be,"  said  Sabina ;  but  she  spoke  without 
conviction. 

"  As  to  the  exact  method  that  you  ought  to  pursue," 
said  Meldon,  "  I  don't  lay  down  any  hard  and  fast  rules ; 
but  I  should  suggest  that  paraffin  oil  is  a  thing  that  has 
a  most  penetrating  kind  of  taste,  and  I  don't  know  that 
I  ever  met  any  one  who  liked  it.  I  remember  once  a 
servant  we  had  at  home  cleaned  the  inside  of  the  coffee- 
pot with  paraffin  oil.  I  tasted  the  stuff  for  weeks  after- 
wards, and  I  couldn't  make  out  for  a  long  time  where 
the  flavour  came  from." 

"Would  there  be  any  fear,"  said  Sabina,  "but  I 
might  poison  him  ?  " 

"  Not  a  bit,"  said  Meldon.  "  You'll  do  him  good  if 
he  eats  the  things.  You  may  not  know  it,  but  vaseline 
is  made  from  paraffin  oil,  and  it's  well  known  that  vase- 
line is  an  extraordinary  wholesome  sort  of  stuff,  good 
for  almost  anything  in  the  way  of  a  cut  or  a  burn.  Then 
there's  a  kind  of  emulsion  made  from  petroleum — that's 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  139 

the  same  as  paraffin — which  cures  consumption.  For 
all  we  know  this  judge  may  be  suffering  from  consump- 
tion, and  a  little  paraffin  may  be  the  best  thing  in  the 
world  for  him." 

"  I  wouldn't  like  if  he  was  to  die  on  us." 

"Nor  would  I;  but  he  won't.  You  needn't  be  the 
least  bit  afraid  of  that.  For  one  thing,  the  moment  he 
smells  the  paraffin  he'll  stop  eating  the  food.  However, 
all  this  is  only  my  idea.  Better  plans  may  suggest  them- 
selves. For  instance,  I  have  noticed  that  if  you  chop  up 
an  onion  with  a  knife,  and  then  spread  butter  with  the 
same  knife,  the  butter  gets  a  most  objectionable  taste. 
You  have  onions  about  the  house,  I  suppose." 

"  I  have." 

"Then  you  might  try  that.  And  there's  a  way  of 
dealing  with  bacon.  I'm  not  quite  sure  how  it's  done, 
but  the  taste  all  goes  out  of  it,  and  it  gets  extremely 
tough.  Then  you  fry  it  in  such  a  way  that  it's  quite 
limp,  and  sprinkle  a  little  soot  on  it.  I've  often  tried 
to  eat  bacon  done  that  way — before  I  was  married,  of 
course — and  I  never  could.  I  don't  suppose  the  judge  will 
be  able  to  either.  Boiled  eggs  are  difficult  things  to  tam- 
per with,  but  you  could  always  see  that  they  were  stale." 

"  I  could  not,  then." 

"  You  could,  Sabina.  Don't  raise  frivolous  difficulties. 
Anybody  could  keep  an  egg  until  it  was  stale." 

"  Not  in  this  house." 

"And  why  not?" 

"Because  they'd  be  ate,"  said  Sabina.  "Whatever 
many  eggs  the  hen  might  lay  they'd  be  ate  by  some  one 
before  they  were  a  day  in  the  house,  and  I  couldn't 
keep  them.  There  was  a  little  Plymouth  Rock  hen  that 
was  wanting  to  sit  here  last  week,  and  it  took  me  all 


140  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

I  could  do  and  more  to  get  the  eggs  saved  up  for  her, 
and  at  the  latter  end  I  had  only  nine." 

"Is  she  sitting  yet?" 

"  She  is,  of  course." 

"  Then  you  might  try  the  judge  with  the  eggs  that's 
under  her." 

"  I  will  not,  then.  Is  it  after  all  the  trouble  I  had 
with  her,  and  the  chickens  will  be  out  early  next  week. 
I  never  heard  of  the  like." 

"  Well,"  said  Meldon,  "  I'll  have  to  leave  the  boiled 
eggs  to  you,  Sabina,  but  I'll  be  disappointed  in  you  if 
the  judge  eats  them.  Do  you  think  now  that  you 
thoroughly  understand  what  you've  got  to  do  ?  " 

"I  do.     Why  wouldn't  I?" 

"  Then  I'll  say  good-bye  to  you.  I'm  much  obliged 
to  you  for  the  cup  of  tea.  And  remember,  Sabina, 
this  isn't  any  kind  of  a  joke.  It's  serious  business,  and 
I  mean  every  word  I  say.  It's  most  important  that  the 
judge  should  leave  Ballymoy  as  soon  as  possible." 

"  Is  it  persecuting  the  League  boys  he's  after  ?  "  said 
Sabina.  "  For  there's  a  cousin  of  my  own  that's  in  with 
them,  and — " 

"  Brother  of  the  red-haired  girl  at  Mr.  Simpkins'  ?  " 

"  He  is ;  and  I  wouldn't  like  any  harm  would  come  to 
him." 

"  You  act  as  I  have  told  you,  and  no  harm  will  come 
to  him.  But  if  the  judge  stays  on  here  it's  impossible 
to  say  what  may  happen.  You  know  what  judges  are, 
Sabina." 

"  I've  heard  tell  of  them,  and  it's  mighty  little  good  is 
ever  said  of  them  or  their  like." 

"  Quite  so,"  said  Meldon.  "  So  you  do  your  best  to 
get  this  one  out  of  Ballymoy." 


CHAPTER  XIII 

£4T'VE  had  a  disappointing  day,"  said  Meldon. 

He  and  Major  Kent  were  at  dinner  together 
in  Portsmouth  Lodge  and  Meldon  had  just  received  a 
second  helping  of  roast  mutton. 

"  It's  not  only,"  he  went  on,  "  the  obstinacy  of  that 
judge  which  has  annoyed  me — " 

"  You've  probably  killed  the  old  man,"  said  the  Major, 
"  so  his  obstinacy  won't  matter  from  this  on." 

"Killed  him!    How?" 

"  Poisoned  him  with  paraffin  oil,"  said  the  Major. 
"  From  what  you've  just  told  me — " 

"  Oh,  that  won't  do  him  any  harm.  It's  quite  whole- 
some in  small  quantities,  and  he'll  stop  eating  before 
he's  absorbed  very  much.  In  any  case  he  deserves  to 
suffer  a  little.  No  man  ought  to  neglect  the  warnings 
which  are  given  him  for  his  own  good." 

Meldon  finished  his  mutton  without  speaking  again. 
Major  Kent  watched  him  anxiously.  His  own  appetite 
had  been  completely  spoiled  by  the  account  which  had 
been  given  him  of  Meldon's  dealings  with  Sir  Gilbert 
Hawkesby. 

"  I  told  you,"  said  Meldon  at  last,  "  that  the  judge's 
obstinacy  was  not  by  any  means  the  thing  which  annoyed 
me  most  in  the  course  of  the  day." 


142  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  Did  you  attack  some  one  else  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  whether  attacking  is  quite  the  right 
word  to  use.  I  called  on  my  way  home  at  the  gate  lodge 
of  Ballymoy  House.  That  fellow  Callaghan  lives  there, 
you  know." 

"  Yes.  Did  you  urge  him  to  lie  in  wait  for  the  judge 
and  shoot  at  him  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  didn't.  Callaghan  has  nothing  to  do  with  the 
judge  one  way  or  other.  He  has  his  own  business  to 
attend  to.  I  wanted  to  hear  from  him  how  Simpkins 
and  Miss  King  had  been  getting  on." 

"  I  may  as  well  tell  you,"  said  the  Major,  "  that  I 
don't  at  all  care  for  this  plan  of  yours  of  setting  servants 
to  spy  on  people,  especially  on  ladies.  It  doesn't  strike 
me  as  honourable,  and  I  wish  you'd  stop  it.  What  did 
Callaghan  tell  you  ?  " 

"  My  dear  Major,  your  scruples  are  perfectly  ridic- 
ulous. I'm  not  asking  Callaghan  to  report  to  me  Miss 
King's  private  conversations,  or  to  read  her  letters,  or 
anything  of  that  sort.  I  merely  want  to  know  whether 
Simpkins  kisses  her.  There's  nothing  objectionable 
about  that." 

"  I  should  say  that  supposing  Simpkins  did,  and  she 
let  him,  which  is  perfectly  absurd,  for  Miss  King  isn't 
that  sort  at  all,  and  it's  grossly  insulting  to  talk  of  her 
in  that  way —  Besides,  putting  her  out  of  the  question, 
no  woman  that  ever  lived  could  bear — " 

"  Lots  of  women  do.  It's  far  commoner  than  you  think. 
I  should  say  that  hardly  a  day  passes  but  some  woman 
somewhere  lets — " 

"  Not  Simpkins.     He's  such  a  horrid  cad." 

"  When  they  are  married  she'll  have  to,  though  I  dare- 
say it  will  hasten  Simpkins'  end  if  he  does  it  too  often — 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  143 

always  supposing  that  she  agrees  with  you  about  him.  I 
don't,  as  I've  said  several  times.  I  think  he's  a  decent 
enough  sort  of  man,  though  he  does  show  an  extraor- 
dinary want  of  enterprise  in  this  business." 

"  Any  way,"  said  the  Major,  "  if  anything  of  the  sort 
happened — which  is  remotely  unlikely — " 

"  It's  absolutely  certain,"  said  Meldon,  "  even  before 
they're  married;  repeatedly,  I  should  say." 

"  If  it  did,  there's  nothing  Miss  King  would  dislike 
more  than  having  it  talked  about.  I  should  say  that 
she,  or  any  other  woman,  would  be  absolutely  furious  at 
the  thought  of  her  gardener  creeping  up  behind  a  tree 
and  spying  on  what,  if  it  occurs  at  all,  ought  to  be  done 
in  the  most  confidential  way,  and  then  going  and  report- 
ing to  you  all — " 

"Any  how,"  said  Meldon,  "it  hasn't  happened  yet, 
so  far  as  Callaghan  knows.  That  is  why  I  say  that  my 
day  has  been  such  a  bitter  disappointment.  Callaghan 
tells  me  that  the  miserable  beast  Simpkins  hasn't  been 
near  the  place,  or  even  seen  her,  since  yesterday,  when 
we  had  them  both  out  in  the  Spindrift.  I  can't  imagine 
why  he  won't  make  use  of  his  opportunities.  I  told  him 
distinctly  that  he  couldn't  expect  her  to  run  after  him, 
however  anxious  she  was  to  marry  him." 

"  Perhaps  he  doesn't  want  to  marry  her." 

"  He  wants  to  all  right,  but  he's  such  a  wretchedly 
inefficient  beast  that  he  won't  turn  to  and  do  it.  I've 
no  patience  with  that  sort  of  dilly-dallying.  I  shall  go 
down  to-morrow  and  speak  to  him  about  it  again." 

"  Take  care  the  judge  don't  catch  sight  of  you." 

"  I  don't  mind  in  the  least  if  he  does,"  said  Meldon. 
"  That  won't  matter.  What  I  have  got  to  take  care 
about  is  that  he  doesn't  catch  sight  of  either  Miss  King 


144  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

or  Simpkins.  I  don't  know  whether  you  quite  realise, 
Major,  that  as  long  as  that  judge  is  in  Ballymoy  we  are 
living  on  the  edge  of  a  volcano.  The  smallest  spark 
might  set  the  thing  off  and  cause  an  alarming  explosion." 

"  Do  sparks  set  off  volcanoes  ?  " 

"  That,  I  suppose,  is  the  kind  of  remark  that  you 
consider  clever.  As  a  matter  of  fact  it  is  simply  an 
evidence  of  your  mental  sluggishness.  My  thoughts  had 
.passed  on,  by  a  perfectly  natural  transition,  from  vol- 
canoes to  powder  magazines,  which  are  things  that  sparks 
do  set  off.  Any  one  with  even  a  moderate  amount  of 
what  I  may  call  mental  agility  would  have  followed  me 
without  any  difficulty,  and  refrained  from  asking  your 
very  foolish  question.  But  it  is  difficult  to  be  literal 
enough  to  please  you.  What  I  ought  to  have  said,  what 
I  would  have  said  if  I  had  realised  at  the  moment  that  I 
was  talking  to  you,  is  this.  We  are  living  the  kind  of 
life  comparable  to  that  of  the  people  whose  cottages  are 
built  round  the  edge  of  the  crater  of  an  active  volcano, 
liable  to  erupt  at  any  moment;  or,  to  change  the  meta- 
phor, our  position  bears  a  certain  resemblance  to  that  of 
the  careless  workman  who  smokes  a  pipe  on  the  top  of 
a  barrel  of  blasting  powder,  and  if  we're  not  extremely 
careful  we'll  find  ourselves  scattered  about  in  little  bits, 
like  the  boy  who  stood  on  the  burning  deck.  Have  you 
any  fault  to  find  with  that  way  of  expressing  my 
thought  ?  or  would  you  like  to  have  it  still  further  ampli- 
fied?" 

"  What  I  suppose  you  mean,"  said  the  Major,  "  is  that 
this  judge  of  yours  may  possibly  recognise  Miss  King  as 
Mrs.  Lorimer." 

"  Precisely.    I  told  you  that  before." 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  145 

"  Well,  he  won't.  So  you  can  make  your  mind  easy 
about  that.  And  if  he  did—" 

"  Have  you  any  reasons  to  adduce  in  support  of  your 
assertion,"  said  Meldon ;  "  or  are  you  simply  contradic- 
ting me  for  the  sake  of  being  disagreeable  ?  " 

"  I  have  one  good  reason." 

"  Then  trot  it  out.  I  shall  be  delighted  to  hear  it,  if 
it  really  is  a  good  reason.  Nothing  appeals  to  me  more 
strongly  than  a  convincing  argument.  But  don't  waste 
my  time  and  your  own  with  some  foolish  theory  which 
wouldn't  carry  conviction  to  an  audience  of  politicians 
at  an  election  meeting." 

"  Mine  is  a  good  reason,  the  best  possible.     It  is — " 

"  It  must  be  very  good  indeed  if  it  is  to  get  over  the 
fact  that  Mrs.  Lorimer's  features  are  burned  into  that 
judge's  brain,  owing  to  his  having  been  obliged  to  stare 
at  her  for  ten  whole  days." 

"  It's  this,"  said  the  Major.  "  He  can't  recognise  Miss 
King  as  Mrs.  Lorimer,  because  she  isn't  Mrs.  Lorimer. 
I'm  convinced  of  that." 

"  I'm  trying,"  said  Meldon,  "  to  be  as  patient  with  you 
as  I  can.  Many  men  would  throw  something  heavy  at 
your  head  for  saying  that.  I  don't.  In  spite  of  the 
fact  that  I  spent  hours  proving  to  you  by  absolutely 
irrefragable  evidence  that  Miss  King  is  Mrs.  Lorimer, 
I  am  still  prepared  to  listen  quietly  to  what  you  have  to 
say.  What  convinces  you  that  Miss  King  isn't  Mrs. 
Lorimer  ?  " 

"  The  woman  herself.  I  know  she  isn't  a  murderess. 
She  can't  possibly  be,  and  no  amount  of  evidence  will 
make  me  think  she  is." 

"You've  seen   her  twice,"   said  Meldon;   "once  on 


146  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

Sunday  afternoon  when  she  had  just  been  to  church,  and 
was  in  a  chastened  and  gentle  mood  owing  to  the  effect 
of  my  sermon  on  her,  when  the  lethal  side  of  her 
character  was  temporarily  in  abeyance.  You  couldn't 
form  much  of  an  opinion  about  her  real  character  at  a 
time  like  that.  The  other  occasion  on  which  you  saw 
her  was  when  she  was  sea-sick,  and  no  woman  is  her 
true  self  when  she's  profoundly  humiliated.  Yet,  on 
the  strength  of  these  two  interviews,  you  are  apparently 
prepared  to  contradict  the  result  of  a  careful  induction 
of  mine  and  the  lady's  own  express  statement.  I  don't 
know  how  you  manage  to  work  yourself  into  a  frame 
of  mind  in  which  that  is  possible." 

"  As  a  matter  of  fact,"  said  the  Major,  "  I've  seen  her 
three  times." 

"  Twice." 

"  No ;  three  times.    The  third  time — "    He  paused. 

"Well?" 

"  I  spent  the  afternoon  with  her  to-day,"  said  the 
Major  sheepishly,  "  while  you  were  at  Donard  with  the 
judge." 

"  I  don't  wonder,"  said  Meldon,  "  that  you're  ashamed 
of  yourself.  I  begin  to  see  now  why  Simpkins  has 
behaved  in  the  extraordinary  way  he  has.  I  was  inclined 
to  blame  him  at  first.  In  fact,  I'm  afraid  I  said  rather 
hard  things  about  him.  I  admit  now  that  I  was  wrong. 
Simpkins  couldn't  and  wouldn't  go  near  her  while  you 
were  there.  It  would  have  been  no  use  if  he  had.  I 
must  say,  Major,  you  are  a  most  difficult  man  to  work 
with.  Here  I've  been  sacrificing  the  whole  of  my  short 
holiday  to  carrying  through  a  difficult  negotiation  for 
your  benefit,  and  all  you  do  is  to  balk  me  at  every  turn, 
to  fling  obstacles  in  my  way,  to  foul  every  rope  I'm  trying 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  147 

to  get  a  pull  on.  How  can  I  marry  Simpkins  to  Miss 
King  if  you  won't  let  him  go  near  her  ?  " 

"  She  won't  marry  him,  J.  J. ;  so  you  may  put  the 
idea  out  of  your  head  once  for  all.  She  doesn't  like 
him." 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Meldon,  "  that  you  spent  the  after- 
noon crabbing  him;  saying  all  the  evil  you  could  think 
of  about  him.  But  you've  wasted  your  time.  Miss 
King's  views  of  marriage  are  entirely  unconventional. 
She  doesn't  marry  her  husbands  with  the  intention  of 
living  with  them.  The  less  she  likes  a  man  the  more 
willing  she  is  to  marry  him,  because  she'll  feel  less  com- 
punction afterwards  if  she  thoroughly  detests,  her 
husband  to  start  with." 

"  She  won't  marry  Simpkins,  any  how,"  said  the  Major 
obstinately. 

"Did  she  tell  you  so?" 

"  Not  in  plain  words.  I  gathered  that  she  wouldn't 
from  the  way  she  spoke  of  him." 

"  Will  you  kindly  tell  me,  Major,  what  did  take  place 
between  you  and  Miss  King  this  afternoon  ?  " 

"  Well,"  said  the  Major  after  a  pause,  "  we  talked." 

"What  about?" 

"  I  can't  recall  the  whole  c6nversation.     We  had  tea." 

"  The  tea  which  the  poor  girl  had  prepared  for  Simp- 
kins.  I  can't  understand,  Major,  how  you  can  bear  to 
go  pushing  yourself  in  where  you're  not  wanted,  in  the 
way  you  do.  Don't  you  understand  that  all  the  time  you 
were  there,  pouring  out  your  foolish  platitudes,  Miss 
King  was  sitting  with  her  heart  in  her  mouth  watching 
for  Simpkins  to  appear?  " 

"  She  wasn't,  J.  J.     She  really  wasn't." 

"  She  disguised  it,  of  course.    Any  well-bred  woman 


148  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

would.  She  pretended  she  enjoyed  what  you  said  about 
the  weather — " 

"  We  didn't  talk  about  the  weather,  J.  J.,  at  least  not 
much." 

"  Then  what  did  you  talk  about  ?  After  you'd  done 
telling  her  all  the  evil  you  could  think  of  about  Simpkins, 
what  did  you  say  to  her  ?  " 

"I  didn't  abuse  Simpkins.  She  said  he  was  a  prig 
and  rather  a  snob." 

"  That  was  politeness  again.  She  didn't  mean  it  in 
the  least.  But  what  I  want  to  get  at  is  what  else  you 
talked  about." 

"  I  won't  be  cross  questioned  in  this  way,  J.  J.  I 
can't  repeat  the  whole  conversation.  We  talked  about — 
well,  about  life." 

"Simpkins'  life?". 

"  No,  mine.  I  mean  to  say,  about  the  quiet  and  peace 
of  living  in  a  place  like  this  where  one's  out  of  all  the 
fuss  and — I  gathered  that  she — " 

The  Major  hesitated,  and  finally  stopped  in  the  middle 
of  his  sentence. 

"  You  gathered,  as  you  call  it,"  said  Meldon,  "  so 
many  entirely  wrong  things  from  your  various  conversa- 
tions with  Miss  King  that  I  can  place  no  reliance  what- 
ever on  this  last  impression  of  yours,  whatever  it  was. 
You  gathered,  for  instance,  that  she  isn't  Mrs.  Lorimer." 

"  I  did,"  said  the  Major  warmly,  "  and  she  isn't.  I'm 
perfectly  certain  she's  not." 

"  You  are  wrong  about  that,  so  the  chances  are  you're 
wrong  about  Miss  King's  views  on  country  life.  I  see 
no  reason  to  alter  my  opinion  that  she  will  marry  and 
afterwards  kill  Simpkins  as  soon  as  ever  she  gets  the 
chance." 


CHAPTER  XIV 

MAJOR  KENT,  who  was  at  heart  a  very  kindly 
man,  and  had  besides  a  genuine  affection  for 
Meldon,  repented  during  the  night  of  his  fit  of  bad 
temper.  While  he  was  shaving  in  the  morning  he  made 
up  his  mind  to  enter  as  sympathetically  as  possible  into 
Meldon's  plans,  whatever  they  might  be. 

"  What  are  you  thinking  of  doing  with  yourself  to- 
day? "  he  asked  at  breakfast.  "  If  you  want  to  go  into 
Ballymoy  to  rag  that  judge  again  I  can  let  you  have  the 
cob." 

"  Thanks,"  said  Meldon,  "  but  I  think  the  judge  may 
be  left  alone  for  the  present.  The  wisest  line  for  me 
to  take  in  this  case  is  to  allow  the  paraffin  oil  to  soak  in. 
I  hardly  think  it  will  be  necessary  for  me  to  see  him 
again.  He'll  probably  leave  by  the  mid-day  train.  The 
fact  is,  I'm  thinking  of  taking  a  half-holiday." 

"  Do,"  said  the  Major.  "  After  what  you  went  through 
yesterday  you  must  want — " 

"  No ;  I  don't.  And  I'm  not  the  kind  of  man  who 
pretends  that  he  takes  holidays  because  he  finds  them 
necessary  for  his  health.  I  take  them  simply  because  I 
enjoy  them." 

"  We  might,"  said  the  Major,  "  have  a  day  in  the 
Spindrift." 


150  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  I  said  a  half-holiday,"  said  Meldon.  "  In  the  after- 
noon I  must  go  in  and  explain  to  Simpkins  that  you  don't 
really  mean  anything  by  your  rather  pronounced  atten- 
tions to  Miss  King." 

The  Major  sighed.  He  had  no  doubt  that  Meldon 
would  do  exactly  as  he  said,  and  he  foresaw  fresh  compli- 
cations of  a  most  embarrassing  kind.  Still,  a  half-holi- 
day was  something  to  be  thankful  for. 

"  We  might,"  he  said,  "  have  a  sail  in  the  morning 
and  come  back  for  lunch." 

"  No,"  said  Meldon,  "  we  can't  do  that.  There's  not 
a  breath  of  wind.  But,  without  actual  sailing,  we  might 
spend  a  pleasant  and  restful  morning  on  board  the 
yacht." 

"  Do  you  mean  simply  to  sit  on  deck  while  she's  at 
anchor  ?  " 

"  I  rather  contemplated  lying  down,"  said  Meldon, 
"  with  my  head  on  a  life-buoy." 

"  I  don't  think  I'd  care  for  that.  It  strikes  me  as 
rather  waste  of  time." 

"  It  would  be  for  you,  Major,  and  I  don't  advise  you 
to  do  it.  My  time  won't  be  wasted,  for  I  shall  use  it 
profitably.  I  shall  take  a  quantity  of  tobacco  and  a  tin 
of  biscuits.  You  can  let  me  have  some  biscuits,  I  sup- 
pose ? " 

"  Certainly.  And  you'll  find  a  bottle  of  beer  on  board, 
which  Simpkins  couldn't  drink  at  luncheon  the  other 
day,  but  I  must  say  that,  if  that's  your  idea  of  a  profit- 
able use  of  your  time — " 

"  It  isn't.  The  tobacco  and  the  biscuits  are  mere  ac- 
cessories. What  I  really  mean  to  devote  my  morning  to 
is  meditation.  One  of  the  greatest  mistakes  we  make 
nowadays,  is  not  giving  sufficient  time  to  quiet  thought. 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  151 

We  go  hustling  along  through  life  doing  things  which 
ought  not  to  be  done  in  a  hurry,  and  when  physical 
exhaustion  forces  us  to  pause  for  a  moment,  we  run 
our  eyes  over  printed  matter  of  some  kind — newspapers, 
magazines,  or  books — and  never  give  a  single  hour  from 
one  year's  end  to  another  to  meditation." 

"  What  do  you  intend  to  meditate  about,  J.  J.  ?  That 
German  philosopher  of  yours,  I  suppose." 

"  I  haven't  settled  that  yet,"  said  Meldon.  "  If  there's 
any  affair  of  yours,  either  practical,  or  an  intellectual 
difficulty  which  you  want  to  have  carefully  thought 
out,  now  is  your  time.  I'll  devote  myself  to  it  with 
pleasure." 

"  Thanks,"  said  the  Major,  "  but  there  isn't." 

"Are  you  quite  sure?  A  chance  like  this  doesn't 
occur  every  day." 

"  Quite  sure ;  thanks." 

"  In  this  case  I  shall  first  of  all  meditate  on  Simpkins, 
Miss  King,  and  the  judge.  Say  an  hour  and  a  half  for 
them.  Then  I  shall  consider  the  subject  of  my  little 
daughter's  education.  Now  that  the  various  professions 
are  opening  their  doors  to  women,  it's  most  important 
to  have  a  reasoned  out  scheme  of  education  for  a  girl, 
and  you  can't  get  at  it  too  soon.  These  two  subjects, 
I  think,  will  make  a  tolerably  complete  programme  for 
the  morning.  If  you  ring  a  bell  outside  the  door  at 
one  o'clock,  I  shall  row  in  to  luncheon.  I  shall  be  pretty 
hungry  by  that  time,  I  expect,  in  spite  of  the  biscuits." 

Meldon  carried  out  his  plans  successfully  for  the  first 
part  of  the  morning.  He  arranged  the  biscuits,  his 
tobacco  pouch,  and  a  box  of  matches  in  convenient  places ; 
laid  down  a  life-buoy  as  a  pillow,  and  stretched  himself 
at  full  length  on  the  deck.  After  a  time  he  shut  his 


152  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

eyes,  so  that  no  insistent  vision  of  the  Spindrift's  rigging 
should  interrupt  the  working  of  his  thought.  At  half- 
past  eleven  he  was  hailed  from  the  shore.  He  raised 
himself  slightly,  and,  leaning  on  his  elbow,  looked  over 
the  gunwale  of  the  yacht.  Major  Kent  stood  on  the 
beach. 

"Anything  wrong?"  shouted  Meldori. 

"  No.  Nothing,  except  that  Doyle  is  up  at  the  house 
wanting  to  see  you,  and  he  seems  to  be  in  an  uncommonly 
bad  temper." 

"I'm  not  going  to  drag  myself  all  the  way  up  to  the 
house  to  gratify  some  whim  of  Doyle's.  If  he  thinks 
he  has  a  grievance,  let  him  come  down  to  the  shore  and 
I'll  pacify  him." 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  Major.  "  I'll  bring  him.  You 
row  ashore  and  be  ready  when  he  comes." 

"  I  shall  do  nothing  of  the  sort.  I  can  shout  at  him 
from  here.  He  can't  possibly  have  any  business  of  a 
confidential  kind.  He  merely  wants  to  be  soothed  down 
about  some  trifle,  and  that  can  be  done  just  as  well  from 
a  distance." 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  later  Major  Kent  hailed  Meldon 
again;  this  time  he  had  Doyle  with  him  on  the  shore. 
Meldon  sat  up  on  his  life-buoy,  and  leaned  both  elbows 
on  the  boom. 

"  That's  right,  Major,"  he  shouted.  "  You've  brought 
him  down.  Just  stay  where  you  are.  I  won't  keep  you 
long.  Now  then,  Doyle!  I  understand  that  you  are 
in  an  abominably  bad  temper  about  something,  and  have 
come  down  here  with  intention  of  working  it  off  on  me. 
I  may  tell  you  that  I  don't  at  all  care  for  being  interrupted 
while  I'm  meditating;  and  as  a  general  rule  I  simply 
refuse  to  do  any  business  until  I've  finished.  How- 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  153 

ever,  as  you're  an  old  friend,  I'm  making  an  exception 
in  your  case.  Can  you  hear  what  I  say  ?  " 

"  I  cannot,"  shouted  Doyle,  "  nor  nobody  could." 

"  You  can,"  said  Meldon.  "  If  you  couldn't,  how  did 
you  answer  me  ?  " 

"We  can't,"  said  the  Major,  shaking  his  head  vigor- 
ously. 

Meldon  pulled  the  punt  alongside  the  yacht,  got  into 
her  and  rowed  towards  the  shore.  When  he  was  within 
about  ten  yards  of  it,  he  swung  the  punt  around  and 
rested  on  his  oars  facing  Doyle  and  Major  Kent. 

"  Now,"  he  said,  "  trot  out  your  grievance ;  but  speak 
briefly  and  to  the  point.  I  can't  and  won't  have  my 
morning  wasted.  If  you  meander  in  your  statements, 
I  shall  simply  row  back  again  to  the  yacht  and  leave 
you  there." 

"  It's  a  curious  thing,"  said  Doyle,  "  that  a  gentleman 
like  you  would  find  a  pleasure  in  preventing  a  poor  man 
from  earning  his  living." 

He  spoke  truculently.  He  was  evidently  very  angry 
indeed. 

"  Don't,"  said  Meldon,  "  wander  off  into  generalities 
and  silly  speculations  about  things  which  aren't  facts. 
So  far  from  taking  a  pleasure  in  preventing  poor  men 
from  living,  I'm  always  particularly  anxious  to  help 
them  when  I  can." 

"  You  didn't  help  me  then  with  your  damned  tricks,  the 
like  of  which  no  gentleman  ought  to  play." 

"  If  you  refer  to  yourself  as  a  poor  man,"  said  Meldon, 
"  you're  simply  telling  a  lie.  You're  rich,  nobody  knows 
how  rich,  but  rich  enough  to  buy  up  every  other  man  in 
the  town  of  Ballymoy." 

"  And  if  I  was  itself,  is  that  any  reason  why  them  that 


154  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

would  be  staying  in  my  hotel  should  be  hunted  out  of 
it?" 

"  Are  you  talking  about  Sir  Gilbert  Hawkesby  ? " 

"  I  am,"  said  Doyle.  "  Who  else  would  I  have  in  my 
mind?" 

"And  is  he  gone?" 

"  He  is  not  gone  yet ;  but  he's  going  without  something 
would  be  done  to  stop  him." 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  it.  I  hardly  hoped  it  would  have 
happened  so  soon.  I  told  you,  Major,  that  I  was  appeal- 
ing to  him  in  the  right  way." 

"  It's  a  loss  of  three  pounds  a  week  to  me,"  said  Doyle, 
"  without  reckoning  what  he  might  take  to  drink.  I'll 
be  expecting  you  to  make  that  good  to  me — you  and 
the  Major  between  you." 

"  It  was  the  cooking  did  it,  I  suppose,"  said  Meldon. 

"  That  and  the  state  his  bed  was  in,"  said  Doyle.  "  It 
was  close  on  eleven  o'clock  last  night,  and  I  was  sitting 
smoking  quiet  and  easy  along  with  the  doctor,  when 
there  came  a  noise  like  as  if  some  one  would  be  ringing 
a  bell,  and  him  in  a  hurry.  It  was  the  doctor  drew  my 
attention  to  it  first;  but  I  told  him  he'd  better  sit  where 
he  was,  for  it  was  Sabina's  business  to  go  up  to  any  one 
that  would  ring  a  bell.  Well,  the  ringing  went  on  terrible 
strong,  for  maybe  ten  minutes,  and — " 

"  Sabina  funked  it,  I  suppose,"  said  Meldon. 

"  She  did  be  in  dread,"  said  Doyle,  "  on  account  of  the 
way  the  bell  was  going,  not  knowing  what  there  might  be 
at  the  other  end  of  it.  That's  what  she  said  any  way, 
and  I  believe  her.  The  doctor  spoke  to  her,  encouraging 
her,  the  way  she'd  go  and  see  whatever  it  might  be,  and 
we'd  be  at  peace  again.  But  for  all  he  said  to  her  she 
wouldn't  move  an  inch.  Then  I  told  the  doctor  that 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  155 

maybe  he'd  better  go  himself,  for  it  could  be  that  the 
gentleman  was  ill.  '  It's  hardly  ever,'  I  said,  *  that  a 
man  would  ring  a  bell  the  way  that  one's  being  rung 
without  there'd  be  some  kind  of  a  sickness  on  him.  It'll 
be  a  pound  into  your  pocket,  doctor,  and  maybe  more/ 
I  said,  '  if  you  get  at  him  at  once  before  the  pain  leaves 
him.' " 

"  I  should  think  O'Donoghue  jumped  at  that,"  said 
Meldon. 

"  He  did  not  then,  but  he  sat  there  looking  kind  of 
frightened,  the  same  as  Sabina  did;  like  as  if  there 
might  be  something  that  the  judge  would  want  to  be 
blaming  on  him.  At  the  latter  end  I  had  to  go  myself. 
It  was  in  his  bedroom  he  was,  and  devil  such  a  state 
ever  you  saw  as  he  had  the  place  in.  The  sheets  and 
the  blankets  was  off  the  bed,  scattered  here  and  there 
about  the  floor,  and  the  pillow  along  with  them.  It  was 
like  as  if  they'd  been  holding  a  meeting  about  the  land, 
and  the  police  were  after  interfering  with  it,  such  a 
scatteration  as  there  was.  I  hadn't  the  door  hardly 
opened  before  he  was  at  me.  '  You  detestable  villain,' 
says  he,  '  what  do  you  mean  by  asking  me  to  sleep  in  a 
bed  like  that?  Isn't  it  enough  for  you  to  have  me  near 
poisoned  with  paraffin  oil  without — '  '  If  there's  hell 
raised  on  the  bed,'  said  I,  '  and  I  don't  deny  but  there 
is,  it's  yourself  riz  it.  The  bed  was  nice  enough  before 
you  started  on  it.  I  had  the  sheets  dampened  with  the 
stuff  the  doctor  gave  me — '  " 

"  Did  you  say  that  ?  "  asked  Meldon,  pushing  the  punt 
a  little  nearer  to  the  shore. 

"  I  did,  and  if  he  was  mad  before  he  was  madder 
after.  I  offered  to  fetch  the  doctor  up  to  him,  but  he 
wouldn't  listen  to  a  word  I  said.  It  was  twelve  o'clock 


156  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

and  more  before  I  got  him  quietened  down,  and  I 
wouldn't  say  he  was  what  you'd  call  properly  pacified 
then.  He  was  growling  like  a  dog  would  when  I  left 
him,  and  saying  he'd  have  it  out  with  me  in  the  morn- 
ing." 

"  I  daresay,"  said  Meldon,  "  he  was  worse  after  he  got 
his  breakfast." 

"  He  was,"  said  Doyle.  "  It  was  Sabina  he  got  a  hold 
of  then;  for,  thanks  be  to  God,  I  was  out  in  the  yard 
seeing  after  the  car  that  was  to  drive  him  up  to  the  river. 
He  went  down  into  the  kitchen  after  Sabina,  and  he 
asked  her  what  the  devil  she  meant  by  upsetting  one 
lamp  over  his  dinner  and  another  over  his  breakfast. 
Sabina  up  and  told  him  straight  to  his  face  that  it  was 
you  done  it." 

"  What  a  liar  that  girl  is !  "  said  Meldon. 

"  J.  J.,"  said  the  Major,  "  did  you  do  it?" 

"  No.  I  didn't.  How  could  I  possibly  have  been 
upsetting  lamps  in  Doyle's  hotel  when  I  was  sitting  in 
your  house  talking  to  you?  Don't  lose  your  head, 
Major." 

"  Sabina  told  me  after,"  said  Doyle,  "  that  it  was  by 
your  orders  she  did  it." 

"  That's  more  like  the  truth,"  said  Meldon.  "  If  she'd 
confined  herself  to  that  statement  when  she  was  talking 
to  the  judge,  I  shouldn't  have  complained.  I  didn't 
exactly  tell  her  that  she  was  to  upset  the  lamp,  but  I 
did  say  that  she  was  to  flavour  everything  the  judge  got 
to  eat  with  paraffin  oil." 

"  It's  a  queer  thing  that  you'd  do  the  like,"  said  Doyle, 
"  knowing  well  all  the  time  that  no  man  would  stay 
where  he  couldn't  get  a  bite  to  eat,  and  that  I'd  be  losing 
three  pounds  a  week  by  his  going." 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  157 

"  If  you  understood  the  circumstances  thoroughly," 
said  Meldon,  "you  would  joyfully  sacrifice  not  only 
three  pounds,  but  if  necessary  thirty  pounds,  a  week  to 
get  rid  of  that  judge." 

"  I  would  not,"  said  Doyle  confidently.  "  I  wouldn't 
turn  away  any  man  that  was  paying  me,  not  if  he  was 
down  here  with  orders  from  the  government  to  put  me 
in  jail  on  account  of  some  meeting  that  the  League 
would  be  having." 

"  Do  you  or  do  you  not,"  said  Meldon,  "  want  to  get 
rid  of  Simpkins  ?  " 

"  I  do,  of  course.     Sure,  everybody  does." 

"Very  well.  In  order  to  secure  the  death  of  Simp- 
kins  it  was  necessary  to  hunt  away  that  judge.  I  can't 
explain  the  whole  ins-and-outs  of  the  business  to  you. 
It's  rather  complicated,  and  I  doubt  if  you'd  understand 
it.  In  any  case,  I  can't  go  into  it  without  betraying  a 
lady's  confidence,  and  that's  a  thing  I  never  do.  But 
you  may  take  my  word  for  it  that  it's  absolutely  neces- 
sary to  remove  the  judge  if  you  are  to  have  the  pleasure 
of  burying  Simpkins.  If  you  don't  believe  what  I  say 
ask  the  Major.  He  knows  all  about  it." 

"  No ;  I  don't,"  said  Major  Kent. 

"  You  do,"  said  Meldon.  "  What's  the  use  of  deny- 
ing it  when  I  told  you  the  whole  plan  myself  ?  " 

"  Any  way,"  said  the  Major,  "  I  won't  be  dragged 
into  it.  I've  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  it,  and  I've 
always  disapproved  of  it  from  the  start.  You  and  Doyle 
must  settle  it  between  you  without  appealing  to  me." 

"  You  can  see  from  the  way  he  speaks,"  said  Meldon 
to  Doyle,  "  that  he  knows  just  as  well  as  I  do  that  we 
must  get  the  judge  out  of  Ballymoy." 

"  Out  of  Ballymoy?  "  said  Doyle. 


158  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  Yes,"  said  Meldon,  "  clear  away  from  the  place 
altogether.  Back  to  England  if  possible." 

"  Well,  then,  he's  not  gone,"  said  Doyle.  "  So  if  it's 
that  you  want  you're  as  badly  off  this  minute  as  I  am 
myself.  He's  not  gone,  and  what's  more  he  won't 

go." 

"  You  told  me  this  minute  that  he  was  gone.  What 
on  earth  do  you  mean  by  coming  up  here  and  pouring 
out  lamentations  in  gallons  about  the  loss  of  your  three 
pounds  a  week  if  he  hasn't  gone?  What  do  you  mean 
by  representing  to  me  that  the  judge  used  bad  language 
about  his  food  if  he  didn't?  I  don't  see  what  you're 
at,  Doyle;  and,  to  be  quite  candid,  I  don't  think  you 
know  yourself.  Go  home  and  think  the  whole  business 
over,  and  I'll  see  you  about  it  in  the  afternoon." 

"  Every  word  I  told  you  is  the  truth." 

"  Either  the  judge  is  gone,"  said  Meldon,  "  or  he  isn't 
gone.  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  What  I  said  was,  that  he  isn't  gone  yet  but  he's  going, 
without  something's  done  to  stop  him." 

"  That's  the  same  thing,"  said  Meldon,  "  for  nothing 
will  be  done." 

"  But  he'll  not  go  from  Ballymoy  ?  Why  would  he 
when  he  has  the  fishing  took  ?  " 

"  He'll  have  to  go  out  of  Ballymoy  if  he  leaves  your 
hotel.  He  may  think  he'll  get  lodgings  somewhere  else, 
but  he  won't.  Or  he  may  expect  to  find  some  other 
hotel,  but  there  isn't  one.  If  he  has  left  you  it's  the 
same  thing  as  leaving  Ballymoy." 

"  It  is  not,"  said  Doyle,  "  and  I'll  tell  you  why  it's  not." 

"Has  he  a  tent  with  him?"  said  Meldon.  "He 
doesn't  look  like  a  man  who  would  care  for  camping  out, 
but  of  course  he  might  try  it." 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  159 

"  He  has  no  tent  that  I  seen,"  said  Doyle.  "  But  I'll 
tell  you  what  happened.  As  soon  as  ever  he'd  finished 
cursing  Sabina  he  said  the  car  was  to  come  round,  because 
he  was  going  off  out.  Well,  it  came;  for  I  was  in  the 
yard  myself,  as  I  told  you  this  minute,  and  I  seen  to  it 
that  it  came  round  in  double  quick  time,  hoping  that 
maybe  I'd  pacify  him  that  way.  He  just  took  a  lep 
on  to  the  car — I  was  watching  him  from  round  the 
corner  of  the  yard  gate  to  see  how  he  would  conduct 
himself — and — " 

"  Wait  a  minute,"  said  Meldon.  "  Had  he  his  luggage 
with  him?" 

"  He  had  not." 

"  Well  then  he  can't  have  been  going  to  the  train." 

"  He  was  not.    But—" 

"Had  he  his  rod?" 

"  He  had  not.     But—" 

"  He'd  hardly  have  gone  fishing  without  his  rod,  how- 
ever bad  his  temper  was.  I  wonder  now  where  on 
earth  he  did  go." 

"It's  what  I'm  trying  to  tell  you,"  said  Doyle,  "if 
you'd  let  me  speak." 

"  If  you  know  where  he  went,"  said  Meldon,  "  say  so 
at  once.  What's  the  use  of  leaving  me  to  waste  time  and 
energy  trying  to  discover  by  inductive  reasoning  a  thing 
that  you  know  perfectly  well  all  the  time  ? " 

"  It's  what  I'm  trying  to  do  is  to  tell  you." 

"  Stop  trying  then,"  said  Meldon,  "  and  do  it." 

"  He  took  a  lep  on  the  car,"  said  Doyle,  "  the  same  as 
it  might  be  a  man  that  was  in  a  mighty  hurry  to  be  off, 
and  says  he  to  the  driver,  '  Is  there  a  place  here  called 
Ballymoy  House  ? '  '  There  is,  of  course,'  said  Patsy 
Flaherty,  for  it  was  him  that  was  driving  the  car." 


160  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  Ballymoy  House !  "  said  Meldon.  "  Nonsense.  He 
couldn't  have  asked  for  Ballymoy  House." 

"  It's  what  he  said.  And  what's  more :  '  Is  it  there 
that  a  young  lady  stops  by  the  name  of  Miss  King? '  said 
he.  '  It  is,'  said  Patsy  Flaherty,  '  and  a  fine  young  lady 
she  is,  thanks  be  to  God.'  '  Then  drive  there,'  says  he, 
*  as  fast  as  ever  you  can  go,  and  if  you  have  such  a  thing 
as  a  bottle  of  paraffin  oil  in  the  well  of  the  car,'  says  he, 
'  throw  it  out  before  you  start.'  Well,  of  course,  there 
was  no  oil  in  the  car.  Why  would  there  ?  " 

"  If  Mr.  Meldon  had  seen  Patsy  Flaherty  last  night," 
said  the  Major,  "  there  probably  would  have  been." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say,"  said  Meldon,  "  that  he  drove 
straight  off  to  see  Miss  King?  " 

"  It's  where  he  told  the  driver  to  go,  any  way,"  said 
Doyle,  "  and  it's  there  he  went  without  he  changed  his 
mind  on  the  way.  What  I  was  thinking  was  that  maybe 
he's  acquainted  with  Miss  King." 

"He  is,"  said  Meldon.  "I  know  that.  I  don't 
believe  that  he's  ever  spoken  to  her  except  in  public,  but 
he  certainly  knows  who  she  is." 

"  What  I'm  thinking,"  said  Doyle,  "  is  that  he  intended 
asking  if  he  might  go  up  to  the  big  house  and  stay  there 
along  with  her  for  such  time  as  he  might  be  in  Ballymoy." 

"He  can't  have  done  that,"  said  Meldon.  "There 
are  reasons  which  the  Major  understands,  though  you 
don't,  which  render  that  idea  quite  impossible.  Speak- 
ing on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  and  without  thinking 
the  matter  out  thoroughly,  I  am  inclined  to  suppose  that 
he  connects  Miss  King  with  the  condition  of  his  bed  last 
night  and  the  persistent  flavour  of  paraffin  oil  in  his 
food.  He's  probably  gone  up  to  speak  to  her  about 
that." 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  161 

"  He  couldn't,"  said  Doyle,  "  for  Sabina  Gallagher 
told  him  it  was  you." 

"  He  wouldn't  believe  Sabina,"  said  Meldon,  "  and  he 
has  every  reason  to  suspect  Miss  King  of  wanting  to 
score  off  him.  I  think  I  may  tell  you,  Doyle,  without 
any  breach  of  confidence,  that  Miss  King  has  a  stone 
up  her  sleeve  to  throw  at  that  judge.  He  tried  to  do 
her  a  bad  turn  some  weeks  ago,  and  she's  just  the  woman 
to  resent  it." 

"  But  the  young  lady  was  never  in  the  inside  of  my 
house,  and  never  set  eyes  on  Sabina.  How  could  it  be 
that  she—" 

"  I  know  what  you're  going  to  say,"  said  Meldon. 
"  She  couldn't  have  had  anything  to  do  with  the  Condy's 
Fluid  or  the  paraffin  oil.  That's  true,  of  course.  But 
my  point  is  that  the  judge,  puzzled  by  an  extraordinary 
combination  of  circumstances,  all  tending  to  make  him 
uncomfortable,  would  naturally  think  Miss  King  was  at 
the  bottom  of  them.  The  one  thing  I  don't  quite  under- 
stand is  how  he  came  to  know  she  was  in  Ballymoy.  I'll 
find  that  out  later  on.  In  the  meanwhile  I  think  I'd 
better  go  into  Ballymoy  after  all.  It's  a  nuisance,  for  I 
was  extremely  comfortable  on  the  yacht,  but  I  can't 
leave  things  in  the  muddle  they're  in  now,  and  there's 
nobody  else  about  the  place  I  could  trust  to  clear  them 
up." 


CHAPTER  XV 

C4"\7"OU  may  as  well  drive  me  into  Ballymoy,  Doyle," 
J[     said  Meldon,  as  they  walked  up  together  from 
the  shore.     "  You've  your  trap  with  you,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  I  have,  and  I'll  drive  you  of  course,  but  I'll  be  ex- 
pecting that  you'll  do  something  when  we  get  there  the 
way  the  judge  won't  be  leaving  the  hotel  altogether." 

"  You  may  put  that  out  of  your  head  at  once,"  said 
Meldon,  "  for  I'll  do  nothing  of  the  sort.  I've  already 
explained  to  you  at  some  length  that  my  chief  object  at 
present  is  to  chase  away  the  judge,  not  only  from  your 
hotel  but  from  Ballymoy." 

Doyle  relapsed  into  a  sulky  silence.  He  did  not  speak 
again  until  he  and  Meldon  were  half  way  into  Ballymoy. 
Then  he  broke  out  suddenly. 

"  Any  way,"  he  said,  "  Sabina  Gallagher  won't  spend 
another  night  under  my  roof.  She'll  be  off  back  to  her 
mother  as  soon  as  ever  she  can  get  her  clothes  packed. 
I'll  give  her  a  lesson  that  will  cure  her  of  playing  off 
tricks  on  the  gentlemen  that  stops  in  my  hotel." 

"  If  you  take  that  kind  of  revenge  on  Sabina,"  said 
Meldon,  "  you  will  be  doing  an  act  of  gross  injustice 
for  which  you  will  be  sorry  up  to  the  day  of  your 
death." 

"  I  will  not,  but  I'll  be  serving  her  out  the  way  she 
deserves." 

162 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  163 

"  She  has  been  acting  all  through,"  said  Meldon,  "  in 
your  interests,  though  you  can't  see  it;  and  you'll  make 
a  kind  of  dog  Gelert  of  her  if  you  sack  her  now.  You 
know  all  about  the  dog  Gelert,  I  suppose,  Doyle  ?  " 

"  I  do  not,"  said  Doyle,  "  and  what's  more  I  don't 
care  if  there  was  fifty  dogs  in  it.  Sabina'll  go.  Dogs! 
What  has  dogs  got  to  do  with  Sabina  and  myself?  It's 
not  dogs  I'm  thinking  of  now." 

"  You  evidently  don't  know  anything  about  the  dog 
I'm  speaking  of,"  said  Meldon.  "  He  belonged  to  a 
Welsh  king  whose  name  at  this  moment  I  forget.  The 
king  also  happened  to  have  a  baby  which  slept,  as  many 
babies  do,  in  a  cradle.  You're  listening  to  me,  I  sup- 
pose, Doyle  ?  " 

"  I  am  not,"  said  Doyle.  "  It's  little  good  I,  or  any 
other  body,  would  get  by  listening  to  you.  Sabina  Gal- 
lagher listened  to  you,  and  look  at  the  way  she  is  now. 
It's  my  belief  that  the  less  anybody  listens  to  you  the 
better  off  he'll  be." 

"  All  the  same,  I  expect  you  are  listening,"  said  Mel- 
don. "  In  any  case,  as  I'm  speaking  distinctly,  and  you 
can't  get  away,  you're  bound  to  hear,  so  I'll  go  on  with 
the  story.  One  day  the  king  came  in  and  found  the  dog 
close  to  the  cradle  with  his  mouth  all  covered  with  blood. 
He  leaped  to  the  conclusion  that  he'd  eaten  the  baby." 

"  He  was  a  damned  fool  if  he  thought  that,"  said 
Doyle.  "  Who  ever  heard  of  a  dog  eating  a  baby  ?  " 

"  You  are  listening  to  me,"  said  Meldon.  "  I  thought 
you  would  when  the  story  began  to  get  interesting.  And 
you're  perfectly  right.  The  king  was  a  fool.  He  was 
such  a  fool  that  he  killed  the  dog.  Afterwards  it  turned 
out  that  the  dog  had  really  been  behaving  in  the  most 
noble  way  possible — had  in  fact  been  fighting  a  wolf 


164  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

which  wanted  to  eat  the  baby.  Then  the  king  was  sorry, 
frightfully  sorry,  because  he  saw  that  through  his  own 
hasty  and  ill-considered  action  he  had  killed  his  best 
friend,  a  friend  who  all  along  had  been  acting  in  his 
interests.  You  see  the  point  of  that  story,  don't  you? 
You'll  be  exactly  in  the  position  of  the  king,  and  you'll 
suffer  endless  remorse  just  as  he  did  if  you  go  and 
sack  Sabina." 

Doyle  meditated  on  the  story.  It  produced  a  certain 
effect  on  his  mind,  for  he  said, — 

"  If  so  be  it  wasn't  Sabina  that  put  the  paraffin  oil 
into  the  judge's  dinner,  but  some  other  one  coming  in 
unbeknown  to  her,  and  Sabina  maybe  doing  her  best  to 
stop  it,  then  of  course  there  wouldn't  be  another  word 
said  about  it;  though  as  soon  as  ever  I  found  out  who 
it  was — " 

"  You  mustn't  push  the  parable  to  those  extremes," 
said  Meldon.  "  No  parable  would  stand  it.  Sabina  did 
pour  in  the  paraffin  oil.  I'm  not  pretending  that  a  wolf 
or  any  animal  of  that  sort  came  in  and  meddled  with 
the  judge's  food.  I'm  merely  trying  to  explain  to  you 
that  later  on,  when  you  understand  all  the  circumstances, 
you'll  find  yourself  tearing  out  your  hair,  and  rubbing 
sack-cloth  and  ashes  into  your  skin,  just  as  the  king  did 
when  he  realised  what  he  had  done  in  the  case  of  the 
dog  Gelert.  As  well  as  I  recollect  the  poor  man  never 
got  over  it." 

"  Dogs  or  no  dogs,"  said  Doyle,  "  Sabina  Gallagher 
will  have  the  wages  due  to  her  paid,  and  then  off  with 
her  out  of  my  house.  For  conduct  the  like  of  hers  is 
what  I  won't  stand,  and  what  nobody  in  a  hotel  would 
stand." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Meldon.     "  I've  told  you  what  the 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  165 

consequences  of  your  action  will  be.  If  you  choose  to 
face  them  you  can.  I've  done  my  best  to  save  you. 
But  you  are  evidently  bent  on  going  your  own  way.  I 
daresay  you  may  be  quite  right  in  supposing  that  you 
won't  suffer  much,  even  when  you  find  out  that  you  have 
committed  a  gross  injustice.  After  all,  it  requires  a  man 
to  have  some  sort  of  a  conscience  to  suffer  in  that  sort 
of  way,  and  you  apparently  have  none.  But  there's 
another  consideration  altogether  that  I'd  like  to  bring 
under  your  notice.  I've  had  some  talk  with  Sabina 
during  the  last  few  days,  and  I've  come  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  she's  a  young  woman  with  a  talent  for  cooking 
of  a  very  rare  and  high  kind.  There's  nothing  that  girl 
couldn't  do  if  she  got  a  little  encouragement.  Give  her 
the  smallest  hint  and  she  acts  on  it  at  once." 

"  I  wish  to  God  then,"  said  Doyle,  "  that  you'd  held 
off  from  giving  her  hints,  as  you  call  it.  Only  for  you 
I  don't  believe  she'd  ever  have  thought — " 

"  I'm  not  speaking  now  of  the  paraffin  oil  business. 
You  mustn't  allow  that  to  become  an  obsession  with  you, 
Doyle.  There  are  other  things  in  the  world  besides  that 
judge's  meals.  As  it  happens,  I  was  giving  Sabina  a 
short  lecture  on  the  art  of  cookery  some  days  before  I 
heard  of  the  judge's  arrival.  I  was  speaking  to  her 
about  the  advisability  of  knocking  together  an  occasional 
omelette  for  you,  or  a  nice  little  savoury  made  of  olives 
and  hard-boiled  eggs.  I  found  her  unusually  receptive, 
and  quite  prepared  to  follow  up  the  ideas  I  put  before 
her.  There  was  just  one  thing  stood  in  her  way — " 

"  Who'd  eat  the  like  of  them  things  ?  "  said  Doyle. 

"  You  would,"  said  Meldon,  "  if  you  got  them.  But 
you  won't,  not  from  Sabina  Gallagher,  because  you're 
determined  to  sack  her.  And  not  from  any  other  cook 


166  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

as  long  as  you  pay  the  perfectly  miserable  wages  you 
do  at  present.  You  can't  expect  first-rate  results  when 
you  sweat  your  employees.  That's  a  well-known  maxim 
in  every  business,  and  the  sooner  you  get  it  into  your 
head  the  better.  You  set  yourself  up  here  in  Ballymoy 
as  a  sort  of  pioneer  of  every  kind  of  progress.  You're 
the  president  of  as  many  leagues  and  things  as  would 
sink  a  large  boat.  There  isn't  hardly  a  week  in  the  year 
but  you  make  a  speech  of  some  sort.  Ah!  here  we  are 
at  the  hotel.  Remind  me  some  time  again  to  finish  what 
I  was  saying  to  you.  I  must  find  out  now  what  has 
happened  to  the  judge." 

He  leaped  out  of  the  trap  and  walked  straight  through 
the  hotel  to  the  kitchen.  He  found  Sabina  there. 

"  Good  morning,  Sabina  Gallagher,"  he  said.  "  I  hear 
you  did  exactly  as  I  told  you.  You're  a  good  girl.  Mr. 
Doyle  is  angry  just  at  present,  and  you'd  better  keep 
out  of  his  way." 

"  He'll  hunt  me,"  said  Sabina. 

"  He  will  not,"  said  Meldon.  "  If  you  have  the  sense 
to  keep  out  of  his  way  until  he  has  cooled  down  a  bit, 
and  cook  him  decent  dinners  in  the  meanwhile.  I've 
spoken  to  him  very  strongly  about  you,  and  I  don't  think 
he'll  dare  to  push  matters  to  extremities,  although  he 
may  grumble  a  bit.  If  he  catches  you,  and  you  find 
his  temper  particularly  bad,  just  mention  the  dog  Gelert 
to  him.  I  told  him  the  story  this  morning  and  it  pro- 
duced a  great  impression  on  his  mind." 

"  He'll  hunt  me,"  said  Sabina  tearfully.  "  Whatever 
dog  I  might  talk  to  him  about  he'll  hunt  me." 

"  If  he  does,"  said  Meldon,  "  I'll  engage  you  myself. 
We'll  be  wanting  a  girl  as  soon  as  ever  we  go  home,  to 
look  after  the  baby  a  bit  and  do  the  cooking  and  wash- 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  167 

ing,  and  keep  the  whole  place  clean  generally.  You'd 
like  to  come  and  live  in  the  house  with  me,  wouldn't 
you,  Sabina  ?  " 

"  I'm  not  sure  would  I." 

"  You  would.  There's  no  doubt  about  it.  But  we 
need  not  discuss  that  yet,  for  I  don't  expect  Mr.  Doyle 
will  sack  you.  What  I  really  want  to  talk  to  you  about 
is  that  judge.  Where  is  the  judge?" 

"  He's  gone,"  said  Sabina. 

"  I  know  that,"  said  Meldon.  "  But  he'll  come  back 
all  right.  He  must  come  back  for  his  luggage." 

"  He  will  not  then.  It's  not  an  hour  ago  since  Patsy 
Flaherty,  the  same  that  does  be  driving  the  car,  came 
in  and  said  he  had  orders  to  take  all  the  luggage  there 
was  and  the  fishing-rods,  and  the  rest  of  whatever  there 
might  be  in  the  place  belonging  to  the  gentleman." 

"  He  was  not  taking  them  to  the  train,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  He  was  not  then,  but  up  to  Ballymoy  House." 

"  Nonsense !  He  couldn't  possibly  have  been  taking 
them  up  to  Ballymoy  House." 

"  It's  what  he  said  any  way,  for  I  asked  him.  And 
he  told  me  that  the  gentleman  had  it  made  up  with  the 
young  lady  that  does  be  stopping  there  beyond,  the  way 
he'd  go  and  live  with  her." 

"  This,"  said  Meldon,  "  is  perfectly  monstrous.  I 
must  go  and  see  about  it  at  once.  He  has  evidently  been 
bullying  that  unfortunate  Miss  King,  coercing  her  with 
threats  until  she  has  agreed  to  board  and  lodge  him. 
I  can't  have  that  sort  of  thing  going  on  under  my  very 
eyes.  You'll  excuse  me,  Sabina,  if  I  run  away  from 
you.  It's  absolutely  necessary  that  I  should  go  up  to 
Ballymoy  House  at  once.  I'll  borrow  Mr.  Doyle's 
bicycle  again." 


168  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

He  went  out  through  the  back  door  into  the  yard, 
and  found  Doyle  stabling  his  pony. 

"  I  suppose,"  he  said,  "  that  I  can  have  your  bicycle 
again.  Affairs  have  taken  a  turn  which  I'm  bound  to 
say  I  did  not  foresee.  I  have  to  get  at  that  judge  as 
soon  as  possible.  He  seems  to  have  been  ill-treating 
Miss  King.  I  expected  that  he'd  go  for  her  over  that 
paraffin  oil  affair,  but — " 

"  Amn't  I  telling  you,"  said  Doyle,  "  that  she'd  neither 
act  nor  part — " 

"  I  know  that ;  but  the  judge  thinks  she  had,  and  he's — 
You'd  hardly  believe  it,  Doyle,  but  he's  had  the  un- 
paralleled insolence  to  go  and  quarter  himself  on  her 
in  Ballymoy  House." 

"  It's  what  I  said  he'd  do,"  said  Doyle,  "  and  I'm  not 
surprised." 

"If  you  understood  the  peculiar  and  delicate  relations 
which  exist  between  that  judge  and  Miss  King — but  of 
course  you  don't,  and  I,  unfortunately,  can't  explain 
them  to  you.  If  you  did,  you'd  see  at  once  that  the 
judge  must  simply  have  forced  himself  on  Miss  King, 
using,  I  have  no  doubt,  the  most  unchivalrous  and 
despicable  threats  to  achieve  his  end.  Considering  that 
he's  getting  his  board  and  lodging  out  of  her  he  might 
very  well  be  prosecuted  for  blackmail.  Just  conceive 
to  yourself,  Doyle —  But  I  can't  talk  about  it.  Where's 
the  bicycle  ?  " 

"  You  took  it  out  with  you  to  Portsmouth  Lodge  last 
night,"  said  Doyle,  "  and  so  far  as  I  know  you  didn't 
bring  it  back  again.  But  there's  an  old  one  in  the  stable 
belonging  to  Patsy  Flaherty,  and  you  can  take  that  if 
you  like." 

"  It  can't  be  worse  than  yours,"  said  Meldon,  "  with 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  169 

that  loose  pedal.  Just  you  wheel  it  round  to  the  door 
for  me,  and  pump  up  the  tyres  if  they  want  it.  There's 
something  I  forgot  to  ask  Sabina.  I'll  go  through  the 
kitchen,  and  meet  you  by  the  time  you  have  the  machine 
ready." 

He  darted  into  the  kitchen,  leaving  Doyle  to  tie  up 
his  pony  and  pump  the  bicycle. 

"  Is  that  you  back  ?  "  said  Sabina.  "  I  thought  you 
were  gone.  Didn't  you  tell  me  there  was  a  hurry  on 
you?" 

"  I'm  just  going,"  said  Meldon ;  "  but  before  I  start 
I  want  to  ask  you  how  you  managed  the  boiled  egg. 
I  suppose  the  judge  had  a  boiled  egg  for  breakfast. 
Did  you  put  paraffin  into  it  ?  " 

"  I  did." 

"  How  ?  I'm  most  anxious  to  know  how  it  was 
done." 

"  It's  what  the  gentleman  asked  me  himself,"  said 
Sabina,  "and  I  told  him  the  truth." 

"  Then  tell  it  to  me." 

"I'm  not  sure  will  I.  The  gentleman  was  terrible 
upset  when  he  heard  it,  worse  than  you'd  think;  for  he 
had  the  egg  ate." 

"  There  can't  have  been  much  paraffin  in  it,  then." 

"There  was  not;  but  there  was  some." 

"  And  how  did  you  get  it  there  ?  " 

"  It  was  with  a  hairpin  I  did  it." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  took  a  hairpin  out  of 
your  head,  and — ?" 

"  I  did,  of  course.     Where  else  would  I  get  one  ?  " 

"  And  dipped  it  in  paraffin,  and  then  stuck  it  through 
the  egg.  I  declare  I  could  find  it  in  my  heart  to  be  sorry 
for  that  judge.  Only  that  he  deserves  all  that  he's  got 


170  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

on  account  of  the  way  he  has  behaved  to  Miss  King,  I'd 
go  and  apologise  to  him.  You're  a  smart  girl,  Sabina. 
I  always  said  you  were,  and  now  you've  proved  that  I 
was  perfectly  right  in  my  estimate  of  your  abilities. 
Good-bye  again.  This  time  I  really  must  be  off." 

He  seized  Sabina's  hand,  and  greatly  to  her  surprise 
shook  it  heartily.  Then  he  left  the  kitchen  and  slammed 
the  door  behind  him.  Doyle  was  waiting  for  him  with 
Patsy  Flaherty's  bicycle.  Meldon  jumped  on  it  and 
rode  off,  ringing  his  bell  as  he  went  along  the  street. 
Doyle  watched  him  disappear,  and  then  turned  and 
walked  into  the  kitchen.  Sabina,  forgetful  of  his  wrath 
and  her  own  threatened  fate,  broke  out  when  she  saw 
him. 

"  Well  now,  did  any  one  ever  see  the  like  ?  Many's 
the  queer  one  I've  come  across  since  I  entered  this  house, 
but  never  the  equal  of  him  for  goings  on.  Anybody 
would  think  he  was — " 

"  It's  not  drink,"  said  Doyle.  "  Nobody  ever  saw  the 
sign  of  it  on  him." 

He  was  angry,  angry  with  Sabina  Gallagher,  and  per- 
haps more  angry  with  Meldon;  but  he  had  a  sense  of 
justice,  and  was  loyal  to  the  man  who  had  once  been 
his  friend.  He  thought  that  Sabina  was  going  to  make 
an  accusation  which  might  be  natural  enough,  but  was 
certainly  false.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  she  had  not  meant 
to  say  anything  of  the  sort,  and  disclaimed  the  sugges- 
tion hotly. 

"  I  wasn't  saying  it  was  drink.  I  know  well  it  couldn't 
be,  for  he's  a  simple,  innocent  kind  of  gentleman  that 
wouldn't  do  the  like.  But  I'd  say  he  was  one  that  liked 
a  bit  of  sport,  and  didn't  care  what  foolishness  he  might 
be  after  so  long  as  he  got  it." 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  171 

She  smiled  amiably  at  Doyle,  as  she  spoke;  but  he 
was  not  a  man  to  be  diverted  from  his  purpose  by  smiles, 
or  lulled  into  forgetfulness  by  the  charm  of  general  con- 
versation. 

"  You'll  go  upstairs  this  minute,  Sabina  Gallagher," 
he  said,  "  and  you'll  pack  up  whatever  clothes  you  have 
— and  that's  not  many — and  as  soon  as  you  have  that 
done  you'll  go  off  home,  for  I'll  not  have  you  in  this 
house  another  night." 

"  I  was  thinking,"  said  Sabina,  "  that  you'd  likely  be 
saying  that." 

"  I'd  say  more,"  said  Doyle,  "  only  if  I  did  I  might  say 
what  I'd  be  sorry  for  after." 

"  You  might  surely." 

"  Though  I  wouldn't  say  more  than  you  deserve  what- 
ever I  said.  What  in  the  name  of  all  that's  holy  did 
you  mean  by  poisoning  the  gentleman  that  came  here 
to  stop  in  the  hotel,  and  would  have  paid  me  three  pounds 
a  week  and  maybe  more  ?  " 

"  It  was  Mr.  Meldon  told  me,"  said  Sabina,  "  and  how 
was  I  to  know  but  you  sent  a  message  to  me  by  him, 
the  way  I'd  be  doing  what  it  was  you  wanted  done  ?  " 

"  Is  it  likely  I'd  send  him  to  you  on  a  message  ? 
Oughtn't  you  to  have  more  sense  than  to  think  I'd  trust 
that  one  with  a  message?  And  wouldn't  anybody  that 
wasn't  a  born  fool  know  that  I  didn't  want  the  lamp 
upset  over  the  dinner  ?  " 

"  It  was  you  told  me  to  put  the  stuff  the  doctor  was 
after  giving  you  on  the  sheets  of  the  gentleman's  bed, 
and  after  the  like  of  that  was  done  on  him,  it  wouldn't 
make  much  matter  what  other  devilment  he'd  have  to 
put  up  with.  Sure  there's  nothing  in  the  world  worse 
on  a  man  than  a  damp  bed,  and  me  after  airing  them 


172  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

sheets  at  the  kitchen  fire  for  the  best  part  of  the  morn- 
ing, so  as  no  one  would  have  it  to  say  that  they  wasn't 
dry.  If  you  didn't  want  him  hunted  out  of  the  house, 
why  did  you  bid  me  do  that  ?  " 

Doyle  felt  the  force  of  the  argument;  felt  it  more 
acutely  than  Sabina  could  guess.  He  himself,  at  the 
bidding  of  Meldon,  had  done  much  to  make  an  honoured 
and  profitable  guest  uncomfortable.  Could  he  fairly 
blame  Sabina  for  acting  in  a  similar  way  with  precisely 
the  same  excuse?  He  felt  the  necessity  for  speaking 
very  sternly. 

"Will  you  get  out  of  this?"  he  said,  "for  I'm  in 
dread  but  I  might  raise  my  hand  to  you  if  you  stand 
there  talking  to  me  any  more.  You'd  provoke  the  pa- 
tience of  a  saint;  but  I  wouldn't  like  to  have  it  cast  up 
to  me  after  that  ever  I  struck  you." 

"  I'm  going.  You  needn't  think  I'm  wanting  to  stay. 
There's  plenty  will  be  glad  to  get  me,  and  pay  me  more 
wages  than  ever  you  done." 

Doyle  recognised  the  truth  of  this.  He  had  got  Sa- 
bina cheap — cheap  even  by  the  standard  of  wages  which 
prevails  in  Connacht.  He  felt  half  inclined  to  recon- 
sider his  determination.  The  judge  was  gone.  The 
dismissal  of  Sabina,  though  a  pleasant  and  satisfying 
form  of  vengeance,  would  not  bring  the  lost  three  pounds 
back  again ;  while  there  might  be  a  good  deal  of  trouble 
in  getting  another  cook. 

"  Before  I  go,"  said  Sabina,  who  did  not  want  to  go, 
and  was  watching  Doyle's  face  for  signs  of  relenting, 
"  before  I  go  I've  a  message  to  give  you  from  Mr.  Mel- 
don." 

"  I  seen  him  myself  this  morning,"  said  Doyle,  "  and 
I  don't  know  what  there  could  be  in  the  way  of  a  mes- 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  173 

sage  for  me  that  he  wouldn't  have  told  me  himself." 

"  What  he  bid  me  tell  you  was  this — "  Sabina  paused. 
"  Well  now,"  she  said,  "  if  I  haven't  gone  and  forgot  the 
name  of  the  dog !  " 

"  Was  it  a  dog  that  a  king  killed  one  time,"  said 
Doyle,  "on  account  of  his  thinking  it  had  his  baby 
ate?" 

"  It  might,"  said  Sabina.  "  It  was  a  queer  name  he 
had  on  it,  and  I  disremember  what  it  was." 

"  I  disremember  it  myself,"  said  Doyle,  "  but  it  was 
likely  the  same  dog  as  he  was  telling  me  about  when  I 
was  driving  him  in.  He  always  did  have  a  liking  for 
dogs,  that  same  Meldon." 

"It  might  be  that  one  or  it  might  be  another.  Any 
way,  he  thought  a  deal  of  it,  for  he  said  to  me  no  later 
than  this  minute  that  if  I  mentioned  the  name  of  it  to 
you,  you  wouldn't  hunt  me." 

"  Listen  to  me  now,  Sabina  Gallagher.  I'll  let  you 
stay  on  here,  though  it's  a  deal  more  than  you  deserve — 
I'll  let  you  stay  on  and  do  the  cooking  the  same  as  you 
used  to,  on  account  of  the  respect  I  have  for  your 
mother,  who  was  a  decent  woman,  and  your  father  that's 
dead — I'll  let  you  stay  on  if  you'll  tell  me  this:  What 
had  the  dog  to  do  one  way  or  the  other  with  the  paraffin 
oil  you  put  on  the  judge's  dinner?" 

"  I  never  seen  the  dog ;  and  I  don't  know  that  I  ever 
heard  tell  of  any  dog  doing  the  like." 

"  Then  what  are  you  talking  to  me  about  the  dog  for 
if  it  didn't  do  something,  be  the  same  less  or  more,  in 
the  way  of  helping  you  to  destroy  the  judge's  dinner?" 

"  It  was  Mr.  Meldon  told  me  to  mention  the  name  of 
the  dog  to  you.  And  I  would,  I'd  do  it  this  minute, 
only  I  disremember  it." 


174  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  Will  you  ask  him  the  next  time  he's  here,  and  tell 
me  after,  what  it  was  the  dog  had  to  do  with  the  mat- 
ter?" 

"  I  will,  of  course,  if  it's  pleasing  to  you." 
"  Then  you  may  stay  on  a  bit  yet,  Sabina.  You  may 
stay  on  till  you  learn  enough  about  cooking  to  be  able 
to  better  yourself;  and  it's  what  you  should  be  able  to 
do  soon  with  the  opportunities  that  you  have  in  this 
house.  But  I'd  like  if  you  could  find  out  about  the  dog, 
for  Mr.  Meldon  was  saying  a  lot  about  him  this  morn- 
ing, and  I'd  be  thankful  if  I  knew  what  sort  of  a  dog 
he  was." 


CHAPTER  XVI 

MELDON  rode  rapidly  westwards  out  of  the  town, 
in  the  direction  of  Ballymoy  House.  He  swept 
round  the  sharp  corner  and  through  the  entrance  gate 
at  high  speed,  leaning  over  sideways  at  so  impressive 
an  angle  that  the  six  Callaghan  children,  who  were  stand- 
ing in  the  porch  of  the  gate  lodge,  cheered  enthusiastic- 
ally. He  disappeared  from  their  view  before  their 
shouts  subsided,  and  rushed  up  the  avenue.  He  reached 
the  gravel  sweep  in  front  of  the  house,  pressed  on  both 
brakes  with  all  his  force,  brought  the  bicycle  to  an 
abrupt  standstill,  and  dismounted  amid  a  whirling  cloud 
of  dust  and  small  stones.  He  rang  the  door  bell 
furiously.  Finding  that  the  door  was  not  immediately 
opened  he  rang  again,  and  then  a  third  time,  leaving 
less  than  half  a  minute  between  the  peals.  Then  a  maid, 
breathless,  and  in  a  very  bad  temper,  opened  the  door 
and  asked  him  what  he  wanted. 

"  I  must  see  Miss  King  at  once,"  said  Meldon,  "  on 
most  important  business." 

"  Miss  King  is  out,  sir,"  said  the  maid. 

"  Where  is  she  ?  When  did  she  go  out  ?  When  will 
she  be  home  ?  " 

The  servant  could  have  answered  two  of  the  three 
questions  without  difficulty.  She  knew  when  Miss  King 

175 


176  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

went  out.  She  also  knew  where  she  had  gone  to.  She 
could  have  guessed  at  the  hour  of  her  return;  but  see- 
ing that  Meldon  appeared  to  be  in  a  hurry  she  took  her 
revenge  for  the  violent  ringing  of  the  bell  which  had 
disturbed  her. 

"  I'll  go  and  enquire,  sir,"  she  said. 

She  spent  nearly  ten  minutes  making  enquiries.  Then 
she  returned  with  the  information  that  Miss  King  had 
gone  out  immediately  after  luncheon.  She  had  accom- 
panied Sir  Gilbert  Hawkesby  to  the  river  where  he  in- 
tended to  fish. 

"  She's  gone  with  Sir  Gilbert  Hawkesby ! "  said  Mel- 
don. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

Meldon  turned  away  and  walked  slowly  down  the 
avenue.  When  he  reached  the  tennis  court  he  propped 
his  bicycle  up  against  a  tree  and  took  out  his  pipe. 
Miss  King's  brilliant  hammock  was  still  hanging  be- 
tween the  two  trees  to  which  Callaghan  had  attached  it 
on  the  morning  after  her  arrival.  Meldon  lit  his  pipe 
and  lay  down  in  the  hammock.  He  was  puzzled.  Miss 
King's  conduct  was  unaccountable.  The  judge's  was 
strange.  But  Meldon  held  a  belief  that  there  is  no 
problem  so  difficult  but  will  yield  its  solution  to  patient 
thought  and  tobacco.  He  drew  in  and  expelled  rich 
clouds  of  smoke;  and  set  himself  to  think  hard.  The 
judge  had  recognised  the  impossibility  of  living  in 
Doyle's  hotel.  That  was  a  plain  and  intelligible  point 
from  which  to  start.  He  had  gone  straight  to  Ballymoy 
House,  knowing  that  he  would  find  Miss  King  there. 
It  was  difficult  to  guess  where  he  got  his  information; 
but  mere  speculation  on  points  of  that  kind  was  obviously 
useless.  The  judge  did  know,  and  had  made  up  his 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  177 

mind  to  settle  down  in  Ballymoy  as  Miss  King's  guest. 
Miss  King  had  apparently  received  him;  had  even  gone 
out  fishing  with  him.  Meldon  could  find  no  explana- 
tion of  the  facts  except  one,  and  it  was  extremely  un- 
satisfactory. The  judge  must  have  imposed  himself  on 
Miss  King,  and  induced  her  to  receive  him  by  means 
of  threats.  Such  things  have,  no  doubt,  been  done  oc- 
casionally; though  rarely  by  judges.  People,  especially 
women  with  doubtful  pasts,  are  always  open  to  threats 
of  exposure,  and  may  be  induced  to  submit  to  black- 
mail. Sir  Gilbert  Hawkesby  was  evidently — Meldon 
had  ample  evidence  of  this — determined  to  fish.  He 
was,  according  to  Doyle  and  Sabina  Gallagher,  in  a  bad 
temper,  and  therefore,  for  the  time,  unscrupulous.  He 
had  spent  a  most  uncomfortable  night.  He  was  also 
extremely  hungry.  It  was  just  possible  that  he  had 
forced  himself  upon  Miss  King.  Meldon  sighed.  This 
adjustment  of  the  facts  was  not  satisfactory,  but  there 
was  no  other.  He  knocked  the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe 
and  stood  up.  Then  he  became  aware  that  Callaghan 
was  watching  him  from  the  far  end  of  the  lawn.  Mel- 
don walked  over  to  him. 

"  If  it's  news  about  Mr.  Simpkins  you  want,"  said 
Callaghan,  "  there's  none,  for  he  hasn't  been  near  the 
place  since  the  last  day  I  was  talking  to  you." 

"  For  the  immediate  present,"  said  Meldon,  "  I'm  not 
so  much  interested  in  Mr.  Simpkins  as  in  another  gen- 
tleman that  came  here  to-day." 

"  Is  it  him  they  call  Sir  Gilbert  Hawkesby?  " 

"  It  is,"  said  Meldon,  "  that  very  man.  Did  you  see 
him?" 

"  I  did.  It  was  half  past  ten  o'clock,  or  maybe  a 
little  later,  and  the  young  lady  was  just  after  coming 


178  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

out  with  a  terrible  big  lot  of  papers  along  with  her. 
She  sat  herself  down  there  in  the  little  bed  where  you 
were  lying  this  minute,  and  *  Good-morning  to  you,  Cal- 
laghan/  she  says  when  she  saw  me." 

"  What  were  you  doing  there  ?  "  said  Meldon. 

"I  was  looking  at  her.  Wasn't  that  what  you  told 
me  to  do?  I  was  watching  out  the  same  as  I've  been 
doing  this  last  week,  the  way  Simpkins  wouldn't  come 
on  her  unawares,  and  me  maybe  somewhere  else  and  not 
seeing  him." 

"  All  right,"  said  Meldon.  "  I  haven't  the  least  doubt 
that's  exactly  what  you  were  doing.  I  put  the  wrong 
question  to  you.  What  I  ought  to  have  asked  you  was 
this:  What  did  Miss  King  think  you  were  doing? 
What  were  you  pretending  to  do  ?  " 

"  I  was  making  as  if  I  was  scuffling  the  walk  with  a 
hoe,  and  the  Lord  knows  it  wants  scuffling,  for  the  way 
the  weeds  grow  on  it  is  what  you'd  hardly  believe." 

"  Well,  and  after  she  said  good-morning  to  you  what 
happened  ?  " 

"  There  wasn't  anything  happened  then,"  said  Cal- 
laghan,  "  unless  it  would  be  some  talk  there  was  between 
us  about  the  weather,  me  saying  it  was  seasonable  for 
the  time  of  year,  and — " 

"  You  needn't  go  into  details  about  the  weather,"  said 
Meldon.  "  I  suppose,  sooner  or  later,  something  else 
happened." 

"  There  did  then." 

"And  what  was  it?" 

"  There  came  a  car  up  along  the  avenue  with  a  gentle- 
man on  it,  and  it  was  Patsy  Flaherty  that  was  driving 
it;  and  him  lacing  the  old  mare  with  the  whip  the  same 
as  if  the  gentleman  might  be  in  a  hurry." 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  179 

"  He  was  in  a  hurry,"  said  Meldon.  "  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  he  hadn't  had  a  bite  to  eat  since  the  middle  of 
the  day  yesterday,  and  not  much  then.  Any  man  would 
be  in  a  hurry  if  he  was  as  hungry  as  that  judge." 

"  That  may  be.  Any  way,  whatever  the  reason  of  it 
was,  he  had  Patsy  Flaherty  leathering  the  mare  like  the 
devil.  Then,  as  soon  as  ever  Miss  King  set  eyes  on 
him,  she  was  up  out  of  the  little  bed  where  she  was,  and 
the  papers  threw  down  on  the  ground,  and  her  running 
as  fast  as  ever  she  could  leg  it  across  the  grass." 

"  Poor  thing !  "  said  Meldon.  "  It  must  have  been  a 
shock  to  her  to  catch  sight  of  him  like  that.  Where  did 
she  run  to  ?  " 

"  To  meet  him,  of  course,"  said  Callaghan. 

"  To  meet  him !  Be  careful  what  you're  saying  now, 
Callaghan.  It's  more  likely  she  ran  the  other  way." 

"  Amn't  I  telling  you  it  was  to  meet  him  ?  And,  what's 
more,  you'd  say  by  the  way  she  was  running  that  she 
was  thinking  it  a  long  time  till  she  got  to  him." 

"You're  mistaken  about  that,"  said  Meldon.  "Un- 
less she  completely  lost  her  head  through  sheer  nervous- 
ness ;  it  must  have  been  away  from  him  she  ran." 

"  It  was  not,  but  to  him.  And  then  as  soon  as  ever 
he  seen  her  coming  he  put  out  his  hand,  and  gripped  a 
hold  of  Patsy  Flaherty  by  the  arm,  and  '  Stop,  ye  divil,' 
says  he.  '  Haven't  ye  had  enough  of  battering  that  old 
screw  for  one  day  ? '  says  he,  '  and  don't  you  see  the 
young  lady  that's  coming  across  the  lawn  there  and  her 
lepping  like  a  two-year-old,  so  as  the  sight  of  her  would 
make  you  supple  and  you  crippled  with  the  rheu- 
matics ? ' " 

"  I  know  now,"  said  Meldon,  "  that  you're  telling  me 
a  pack  of  lies  from  start  to  finish.  There's  not  a  judge 


i8o  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

in  the  world  would  say  the  words  you're  putting  into 
that  one's  mouth.  It  isn't  the  way  judges  talk,  nor  the 
least  like  it.  You  oughtn't  to  try  and  invent  things, 
Callaghan.  You  can't  do  it.  You  haven't  got  any  fac- 
ulty for  dramatic  probability  in  characterisation.  That 
story  of  yours  wouldn't  go  down  with  Major  Kent,  and 
what's  the  good  of  your  offering  it  to  me?  You  may 
not  know  it,  Callaghan,  but  I'm  something  of  an  expert 
in  textual  criticism.  I  can  separate  up  the  Book  of 
Genesis  into  its  component  documents  as  well  as  any 
man  living,  and  I'm  quite  capable  of  telling  by  internal 
evidence,  that  is  to  say  by  considerations  of  style  and 
matter,  whether  any  particular  verse  is  written  by  the 
same  man  that  wrote  the  verse  before.  Now  in  both 
respects,  matter  and  style,  I  recognise  in  your  story  the 
strongest  possible  evidence  of  fabrication.  Any  literary 
critic  who  knew  his  business  would  agree  with  me.  In 
the  first  place,  Miss  King  wouldn't  have  run  to  meet 
that  judge.  She'd  have  run  away  from  him  if  she  ran 
at  all." 

"  It  was  to  him  she  did  run,"  said  Callaghan,  "  and 
what's  more — " 

"  In  the  second  place,"  said  Meldon,  "  the  judge 
wouldn't  have  spoken  that  way  to  Patsy  Flaherty.  If 
he'd  wanted  to  have  the  car  stopped  he'd  have  said, 
'  Pull  up  for  a  minute,  my  good  man/  or  words  to  that 
effect." 

"  Well,"  said  Callaghan,  "  it  might  have  been  that  he 
said.  How  was  I  to  hear  what  passed  between  them 
when  I  was  half  ways  across  the  lawn  at  the  time 
scuffling  the  path  with  my  hoe  ?  " 

"  And  if  you  couldn't  hear,"  said  Meldon,  "  what  on 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  181 

earth  do  you  mean  by  pretending  to  repeat  to  me  the 
exact  words  the  judge  used?" 

"I  told  you  the  best  I  could.  If  them  wasn't  the 
words  he  said  he  looked  mighty  like  as  if  they  were. 
Any  way  Patsy  Flaherty  gave  over  lambasting  the  old 
mare,  and  she  stood  still,  the  way  you'd  think  she  was 
glad  of  the  rest.  Then  the  gentleman  took  a  lep  down 
off  the  car,  and  away  with  him  to  meet  the  lady." 

"Well?" 

"  She  was  mighty  glad  to  see  him,"  said  Callaghan, 
"  for  she  kissed  him  twice." 

"  Nonsense,"  said  Meldon,  "  she  couldn't  possibly  have 
kissed  him.  And,  listen  to  me  now,  Callaghan.  You 
set  up  to  be  mighty  particular  about  moral  conduct,  and 
the  day  I  first  talked  to  you  about  Miss  King  you  said 
a  lot  about  disliking  any  kind  of  impropriety.  But  you 
don't  hesitate  to  tell  me  a  grossly  scandalous  story  about 
a  lady  who  never  did  you  any  harm.  I  don't  think  you 
ought  to  do  it." 

"  There  was  no  impropriety  of  conduct  about  it." 

"  There  was.  How  can  you  possibly  say  there  wasn't  ? 
What  could  be  more  improper,  judged  by  any  conceivable 
standard  of  conduct,  than  for  a  young  lady  to  go  rush- 
ing and  tearing  across  a  lawn  and — I  declare  I  don't 
like  to  repeat  the  thing  you  said." 

"  There  was  no  impropriety  of  conduct,"  said  Cal- 
laghan, "  because  the  gentleman  was  her  uncle." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,"  said  Meldon,  "  that  Sir 
Gilbert  Hawkesby  is  Miss  King's  uncle  ?  " 

"  He  is.  I  might  have  guessed  it  when  I  saw  her 
kissing  him.  And  I  partly  did  guess  there  must  be 
something  of  the  sort  in  it ;  for  I  have  a  respect  for  Miss 


182  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

King,  and  I  know  well  that  she's  not  the  sort  that  would 
do  the  like  of  that  without  the  gentleman  would  be  a 
near  friend  of  her  own.  But  the  way  I'd  make  sure  I 
went  and  asked  the  young  lady  within  in  the  kitchen." 

"  Do  you  mean  the  cook  ?  " 

"  I  do,"  said  Callaghan.  "  It  might  have  been  an 
hour  after  or  maybe  more  when  I  was  taking  in  a  dish 
of  peas  for  the  dinner.  '  Miss  Hodge/  says  I,  speaking 
respectful — for  the  girls  that  does  be  in  it  thinks  a  lot 
of  themselves  on  account  of  their  coming  over  here  all 
the  way  from  London — '  Miss  Hodge,'  says  I,  '  that's  a 
mighty  fine  gentleman  that's  come  to  see  the  mistress 
to-day.'  '  The  devil  a  much  credit  it  is  to  you  to  find 
that  out,'  says  she,  '  for — ' ' 

"  She  didn't,"  said  Meldon.  "  Nobody  of  the  name 
of  Hodge  who  came  from  London  would  or  could  say 
'  the  devil  a  much  credit '  under  any  circumstances." 

"  It's  what  she  meant,"  said  Callaghan,  "  and  what's 
more,  she  told  me  about  his  being  a  high-up  gentleman, 
and  a  judge,  no  less.  '  Do  you  tell  me  that  now? '  says 
I.  '  I'm  glad  of  it  for,  if  you  believe  me,  it's  the  first 
time  ever  I  set  eyes  on  one  of  them.'  '  You'll  see  plenty 
of  him,'  says  she,  '  for  he'll  be  stopping  here  along  with 
Miss  King  till  he's  done  fishing.'  *  Will  he  then  ?  And 
what  would  he  be  doing  that  for  ? '  '  It's  on  account  of 
the  way  them  murdering  villains  down  in  the  hotel — 

"  I  wish,"  said  Meldon,  "  that  you  wouldn't  try  to  re- 
peat the  cook's  exact  words.  You're  getting  them  wrong 
every  time  and  making  it  more  and  more  difficult  for  me 
to  believe  your  story." 

"  It's  the  truth  I'm  telling  you  whether  or  no,"  said 
Callaghan,  "  and  what  she  said  was  that  he  was  com- 
ing up  here  to  stay  on  account  of  the  way  they  had  him 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  183 

poisoned  down  in  the  hotel,  which  is  what  I  was  sorry 
to  hear  her  say,  for  Sabina  Gallagher's  a  friend  of  my 
own,  her  sister  being  married  to  my  wife's  cousin,  and 
I  wouldn't  like  to  hear  of  the  girl  getting  a  bad  name. 
Any  way,  '  it's  that  way  it  is/  said  Miss  Hodge,  '  and 
where  would  he  come  to  if  it  wasn't — ?' ' 

"  You're  at  it  again,"  said  Meldon.  "  Why  can't  you 
tell  what  you  have  to  tell  without  spoiling  what  might  be 
a  good  story  by  insisting  on  making  the  cook  talk  in 
that  unnatural  way  ?  " 

"  What  she  said  was,"  said  Callaghan,  "  that  it  was 
no  more  than  right  and  proper  that  he'd  come  to  the 
house  of  his  own  niece." 

"  You're  absolutely  certain  she  said  that  ?  " 

"  I  am ;  for  it  wasn't  once  nor  twice  she  said  it,  but 
more;  like  as  if  she  was  proud  of  being  along  with  a 
lady  that  was  niece  to  a  judge." 

"  If  the  facts  are  as  you  state  them,"  said  Meldon, 
"  a  good  many  things  become  clear  to  me,  and  the  gen- 
eral situation  is  by  no  means  so  desperate  as  I  was  in- 
clined to  think." 

"  Would  you  say  now,  your  reverence,"  said  Cal- 
laghan, "  that  it's  true  what  she  was  after  telling  me 
about  Sabina  doing  the  best  she  could  to  poison  the  judge 
with  paraffin  oil  ?  " 

"  There's  a  foundation  of  truth  in  the  statement," 
said  Meldon,  "  but  it  has  been  very  much  exaggerated." 

"  It's  what  I  didn't  think  Sabina  would  do,  for  she 
was  always  a  quiet,  decent  girl,  with  no  harm  in  her." 

"  Don't  run  away  with  the  idea  that  Sabina  has  done 
anything  wrong,"  said  Meldon,  "  for  she  hasn't.  I  can't 
stop  here  to  explain  the  whole  circumstances  to  you,  for 
I  have  other  things  to  do,  and  in  any  case  you  wouldn't 


184  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

be  able  to  understand.  But  I  would  like  to  fix  this  fact 
firmly  in  your  mind :  Sabina  is  in  no  way  to  blame." 

"  Is  there  any  fear  now,"  said  Callaghan,  "  that  she 
might  be  took  by  the  police  ?  " 

"  Not  the  slightest." 

"Him  being  a  judge  and  all?" 

"  That  doesn't  make  the  least  difference.  If  Sabina 
had  poisoned  anybody — she  hasn't,  but  if  she  had — or 
even  if  she'd  tried  to,  she'd  be  had  up  for  it  whether 
her  victim  was  a  judge  or  a  corner  boy.  It's  worse,  I 
believe,  if  you  poison  the  king;  but  short  of  that  it's 
the  same  thing  exactly.  The  law  doesn't  set  a  bit  more 
value  on  a  judge's  life  than  on  any  one  else's,  and  Sir 
Gilbert  Hawkesby  would  be  the  first  man  to  tell  you 
that.  You  can  ask  him  if  you  like.  But  the  point  isn't 
really  of  any  importance,  because,  as  I  said  before,  Sa- 
bina has  neither  poisoned  nor  tried  to  poison  anybody. 
She  has  simply  done  her  duty." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

tHe  whole,"  said  Meldon,  "things  are  turn- 
ing  out  better  than  I  expected.  They  de- 
veloped in  a  way  that  at  first  a  little  surprised  me.  In 
fact,  for  an  hour  or  two  I  was  rattled,  and  hardly  knew 
what  to  say  or  do ;  but  on  thinking  the  whole  affair  over 
quietly,  after  an  interview  I  had  with  Callaghan,  I  have 
every  reason  to  feel  fairly  well  satisfied." 

He  and  Major  Kent  sat  together  at  afternoon  tea  on 
the  verandah  of  Portsmouth  Lodge.  The  Major  was 
evidently  nervous  and  uncomfortable.  The  teaspoon 
tinkled  in  the  saucer  as  he  handed  a  cup  to  his  friend, 
and  he  forgot  to  help  himself  to  a  lump  of  sugar. 

"  I  took  Doyle  quite  the  right  way,"  said  Meldon,  "  and 
I  don't  think  he'll  sack  Sabina.  I  should  have  been  sorry 
if  Sabina  had  got  into  serious  trouble — " 

"What  about  the  judge?"  said  the  Major. 

"  I'm  talking  about  Sabina  Gallagher  at  present.  I'll 
come  to  the  judge  later  on.  As  a  matter  of  fact  he's 
perfectly  well  able  to  look  after  himself.  Sabina  isn't, 
and  it  is  my  practice — it  ought  to  be  yours,  Major,  but  of 
course  it  isn't — it  is  my  practice  to  look  after  the  poor 
and  helpless,  especially  when  they  happen  to  be  women, 
before  I  do  anything  for  those  who  are  rich  and  power- 
ful. You,  I  regret  to  say,  go  upon  a  different  plan.  Be- 

185 


186  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

cause  Sabina  happens  to  be  a  friendless  servant,  with  no 
one  to  take  her  part,  you  don't  care  a  pin  what  happens 
to  her.  You  are  interested  only  in  this  judge,  who  is 
well  off  and  has  the  whole  force  of  the  British  constitu- 
tion at  his  back  if  any  one  attempts  to  do  him  any 
harm." 

The  Major  accepted  the  rebuke  meekly. 

"  I  only  meant,"  he  said,  "  that  I'd  like  to  hear  about 
the  judge  now  I  know  that  Sabina  is  all  right.  And 
after  all,  J.  J.,  the  British  constitution  isn't  much  use  to 
a  man  when  you  are  set  on  ragging  him." 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  Meldon.  "  In  fact,  the  British 
constitution  is  a  greatly  over-rated  thing.  It  didn't  save 
poor  Lorimer  from  his  untimely  end.  It  wouldn't  save 
this  judge  if  I  had  determined  to  make  him  miserable. 
It  won't  save  Simpkins  when  his  time  comes.  However, 
as  things  turn  out,  I  don't  want  to  harry  the  judge. 
There's  no  particular  point  in  it.  I  don't  much  mind 
now  even  if  he  goes  back  to  Doyle's  hotel." 

"He  really  left  then?" 

"  Yes.  Doyle  was  rather  upset  about  it.  It's  a  serious 
loss  to  him,  and  I'm  sorry  it  occurred,  for  it  turns  out 
now  that  it  was  quite  unnecessary.  I  couldn't  possibly 
be  expected  to  guess ;  but,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  I  needn't 
have  worried  about  that  judge  at  all.  He  won't  do  us 
any  harm.  In  fact,  I  expect  he'll  turn  out  to  be  a  most 
valuable  ally.  I  shall  see  him  to-morrow  and  try  to  en- 
list his  sympathies  for  our  Simpkins  plot.  I  expect  he'll 
simply  jump  at  it." 

"  I  thought  you  said  he'd  gone." 

"  He  has  gone  from  the  hotel,  but  not  from  Ballymoy. 
He's  at  present  staying  with  his  niece." 

•"  I  didn't  know  he  had  a  niece." 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  187 

"  Miss  King,  or  to  be  quite  accurate  Mrs.  Lorimer, 
is  his  niece,  and  he's  staying  with  her." 

Major  Kent  started  and  laid  down  his  teacup.  Then 
a  look  of  relief  came  into  his  face,  and  he  smiled. 

"  You'll  give  up  that  absurd  theory  of  yours  now,  I 
suppose,"  he  said,  "  and  admit  that  Miss  King  isn't  a 
murderess.  I  always  knew  she  wasn't,  though  I  couldn't 
convince  you." 

"  I  don't  see,"  said  Meldon,  "  that  anything  has  hap- 
pened to  invalidate  the  evidence  on  which  we  originally 
concluded  that  Miss  King  is  Mrs.  Lorimer." 

"  Don't  be  an  ass,  J.  J.  You  say  she's  the  judge's 
niece ;  so  of  course  she  can't — " 

"  You  apparently  think,"  said  Meldon,  "  that  a  judge's 
niece,  merely  because  her  uncle  happens  to  occupy  a  posi- 
tion of  legal  eminence,  couldn't  possibly  commit  a  crime. 
You're  entirely  wrong.  Some  of  the  greatest  women  crim- 
inals the  world  has  ever  seen  have  been  the  nieces  of  men 
of  high  position.  Look  at  Lucrezia  Borgia,  for  instance. 
Her  uncle  was  a  Pope ;  and  whatever  our  religious  opin- 
ions may  be  we  must  admit  that  a  Pope  is  a  bigger  man 
than  an  ordinary  judge,  and  yet  Lucrezia  is  famous  for 
some  of  the  most  remarkable  crimes  in  all  history.  I 
could  quote  other  instances,  but  that  one  ought  to  be 
sufficient  to  convince  you  that  relationship  to  a  judge  is 
no  safeguard — " 

"  That  wasn't  what  I  meant,  J.  J.  You  say  that  this 
judge  tried  Mrs.  Lorimer.  Now  if — " 

"  Do  you  mean  to  suggest,"  said  Meldon,  "  that  a  judge 
wouldn't  try  his  own  niece  for  murder?" 

"  Of  course  he  wouldn't.     How  could  he  ?  " 

"  You're  entirely  wrong,"  said  Meldon.  "  As  a  mat- 
ter of  fact  any  right-minded  and  really  upright  judge, 


i88  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

such  as  we  have  every  reason  to  suppose  this  Sir  Gilbert 
Hawkesby  is,  would  take  a  special  pride  in  trying  his 
own  niece.  He'd  like  to  hang  her  if  he  could,  always 
supposing  that  he  felt  sure  that  she  was  guilty.  If  there's 
one  thing  judges  are  more  determined  about  than  an- 
other it's  their  independence  of  all  considerations  of 
private  friendship  in  the  discharge  of  their  duties.  There 
are  several  recorded  instances  of  judges  hanging  their 
own  sons.  The  expression,  '  A  Roman  father,'  arises, 
as  well  as  I  recollect,  from  an  incident  of  the  sort,  and 
the  men  who  have  done  that  kind  of  thing  have  always 
been  regarded  as  the  brightest  examples  of  incorruptibil- 
ity. Every  lawyer  is  brought  up  in  the  tradition  that  he 
can't  do  a  finer  action,  if  he  becomes  a  judge — 
and  they  all  expect  to  become  judges  in  the  end — than 
to  hang  a  relative  of  his  own.  Sir  Gilbert  saw  his 
opportunity  when  Miss  King  was  brought  up  before 
him,  and  the  moment  he  became  convinced  of  her 
guilt  he  summed  up  against  her  in  the  most  determined 
way." 

"  You  may  talk  as  you  like,  J.  J.,  but  no  judge  would 
do  it." 

"  You  have  evidently  a  very  low  opinion  of  judges," 
said  Meldon.  "  So  has  Doyle.  He  thinks  that  they  are 
all  influenced  by  political  prejudices,  and  are  ready  to 
condemn  a  man  who  belongs  to  any  League,  without 
waiting  to  find  out  whether  he  has  committed  a  crime 
or  not.  That's  bad  enough;  but  what  you  charge  them 
with  is  infinitely  worse.  You  say  that  they  are  habitually 
guilty  of  nepotism — that  is  to  say  of  partiality  to  their 
own  nieces,  which  is  one  of  the  worst  crimes  there  is  in 
a  judge,  as  bad  as  simony  would  be  in  a  bishop." 

"  I  don't  say  anything  of  the  sort.     I  say — " 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  189 

"  Either  you  say  that  Miss  King  isn't  his  niece  or  you 
say  that  he  wouldn't  try  her  for  murder.  You  must  be 
saying  one  or  the  other,  though  you  don't  express  your- 
self very  distinctly,  because  there's  nothing  else  you 
could  say." 

"  I  don't,  of  course,  agree  with  you,"  said  the  Major, 
after  a  pause.  "  In  fact,  I  think  you're  talking  down- 
right nonsense,  but  I'm  not  going  to  argue  with  you. 
I'm—" 

"  I  wish  you'd  always  take  up  that  attitude,"  said 
Meldon.  "  Your  arguments  waste  a  lot  of  time." 

"  I'm  just  going  to  ask  you  one  question.  Supposing 
Miss  King  is  Mrs.  Lorimer — " 

"  She  is.     There's  no  supposition  about  it." 

"  And  supposing  the  judge  tried  her  as  you  say — " 

"  That's  in  all  the  papers.  There's  no  use  attempting 
to  deny  that,  whatever  else  you  deny." 

"  And  supposing  she's  his  niece — " 

"  Callaghan  says  the  cook  told  him  she  was,"  said 
Meldon,  "  and  it  appears  that  she  kissed  him  when  they 
met,  which  she'd  hardly  have  done  if  they  weren't  rela- 
tions." 

"  Then,"  said  the  Major  triumphantly,  "  how  can  you 
account  for  his  going  to  stay  with  her  as  if  she  hadn't 
done  anything  wrong  ?  " 

"  I  don't  quite  catch  your  point,  Major." 

"  Is  it  likely  that,  knowing  his  niece  to  be  a  murderess, 
or  at  all  events  believing  her  to  be  a  murderess,  a  judge 
—a  judge,  mind  you,  J.  J. — would  go  and  stay  in  the 
house  with  her,  and  kiss  her  ?  " 

"  It  was  she  who  kissed  him,"  said  Meldon,  "  but  that's 
a  minor  point.  I  see  your  difficulty  now,  Major,  and  I 
quite  admit  there's  something  in  it,  or  appears  to  be  some- 


190  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

thing  in  it  to  a  man  like  you  who  doesn't  understand  the 
legal  point  of  view." 

"  No  point  of  view  can  alter  facts,"  said  the  Major, 
"  supposing  they  are  facts,  which  of  course  they're  not." 

"Yes,  it  can,"  said  Meldon.  "To  the  legal  mind  a 
fact  ceases  to  be  a  fact  the  moment  a  properly  qualified 
court  has  decided  the  other  way.  The  judge  may  be, 
in  this  particular  case  he  is,  as  we  know,  absolutely  con- 
vinced that  his  niece  is  a  murderess.  But  a  jury  says  she 
isn't,  and  so  from  a  legal  point  of  view  she's  a  perfectly 
innocent  and  upright  woman.  The  judge  can't  hang  her. 
He  can't  even  warn  her  not  to  do  it  again.  He  is  bound, 
whatever  his  private  feelings  and  convictions  are,  to 
accept  the  jury's  verdict  at  its  face  value,  and  to  treat 
his  niece  exactly  as  he  did  before  all  the  unpleasantness 
arose." 

"  He  needn't  kiss  her,"  said  the  Major. 

"  If  he's  a  consistently  just  man  and  was  on  what  we 
may  call  kissing  terms  with  her  before,"  said  Meldon, 
"  he'll  of  course  kiss  her  again  afterwards.  He  can't 
do  anything  else.  In  the  eye  of  the  law — that's  what  I 
mean  by  the  legal  standpoint — she's  an  innocent  woman. 
Now  the  judge's  whole  position  in  society  and  even  his 
income  depends  on  his  keeping  up  the  theory  that  the  law 
is  infallible.  Whatever  you  and  I  as  private  individuals 
may  do,  a  judge  has  only  one  course  open  to  him.  He 
must  take  the  view  that  the  law  takes.  That's  why  I 
say  that  it's  quite  natural  for  Sir  Gilbert  to  go  and  stop 
with  his  niece  and  kiss  her,  though,  as  I  said  before,  it 
was  really  she  who  kissed  him.  If  he  didn't,  he'd  be 
admitting  publicly  that  the  law  was  wrong,  and  he  can't 
do  that  without  giving  himself  and  his  whole  position 
away  hopelessly." 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  191 

"  It  doesn't  strike  me  as  a  bit  natural,"  said  the  Major. 
"  In  fact,  it's  quite  impossible.  That's  why  I  say — " 

"  I  can  understand  your  feeling,"  said  Meldon.  "  In- 
deed I  was  a  good  deal  surprised  at  first ;  but  when  I  came 
to  think  it  all  out,  and  to  realise  the  sort  of  way  the 
judge  would  look  at  it,  I  saw,  as  you'll  probably  be  able 
to  see  some  time  to-morrow — " 

"  No.  I  won't.  I'll  never  see  that.  It's  absurd  to 
suppose — " 

"  I  don't  deny,"  said  Meldon,  "  that  when  we  consider 
Sir  Gilbert  Hawkesby  as  a  private  individual,  separating 
for  a  moment  the  man  from  the  judge,  we  must  credit 
him  with  the  feeling  that  Miss  King  is  rather  a — what 
the  French  would  call  a  mauvais  sujet" 

"A  what?" 

"A  black  sheep,"  said  Meldon,  "a  disgrace  to  the 
family.  The  sort  of  relation  whom  one  is  inclined  to 
keep  in  the  background  as  much  as  possible.  I  am  rely- 
ing on  that  feeling  to  secure  the  help  of  the  judge." 

"For  what?" 

"  To  marry  Miss  King  to  Simpkins,  of  course.  The 
thing  we've  been  at  all  along." 

"  He  won't  do  that.  No  man  living  would  marry  his 
niece  to  Simpkins." 

"  That  depends  on  the  nature  of  the  niece.  There  are 
nieces — there's  no  use  denying  it,  Major,  because  it's  un- 
fortunately true.  There  are  nieces  that  a  man  would  be 
glad  to  see  married  to  any  one.  And  there's  a  great  deal 
to  be  said  in  favour  of  the  Simpkins  alliance  in  this 
particular  case." 

"  No,  there  isn't.     The  man  is  a  cad." 

"  I  don't  think  nearly  so  badly  of  Simpkins  as  you  do, 
Major.  I've  told  you  that  before.  But,  even  granting 


192  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

what  you  say  is  true,  the  judge  probably  argues  that  Miss 
King  with  her  record  can't  expect  anything  better.  He'll 
be  glad  enough  to  get  Simpkias  for  her.  He'll  recollect 
that  Ballymoy  is  a  frightfully  out-of-the-way  place,  and 
that  if  Miss  King  is  married  to  a  man  who  lives  here 
none  of  her  friends  will  ever  s*e  any  more  of  her.  That's 
exactly  what  he  wants ;  and  so  I  confidently  expect  that, 
once  the  position  is  explained  to  him,  he'll  simply  jump 
at  the  chance." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say,"  said  the  Major — "  I  am  now 
supposing  that  all  your  ridiculous  ideas  are  true,  and  that 
Miss  King  will  really — " 

He  hesitated. 

"Kill  Simpkins?"  said  Meldon.  "That's  what  you 
want  done,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  think  the  judge  will 
go  out  of  his  way  to  encourage  her  to  commit  another 
crime  ?  " 

"  It's  not  the  business  of  a  judge  to  prevent  crime," 
said  Meldon.  "  You  mustn't  mix  him  up  with  the  police. 
The  police  have  to  see  that  people  don't  do  what's  wrong. 
Judges  have  to  punish  them  afterwards  for  what  the 
police  fail  to  stop  them  from  doing.  The  judge  won't 
step  out  of  his  proper  sphere  and  start  doing  police  work. 
If  he  did  there'd  be  endless  confusion.  And  besides 
that,  I  don't  expect  the  judge  will  think  that  she  means 
to  kill  Simpkins.  He  doesn't  understand  as  we  do  that 
s'he  is  acting  in  the  interests  of  her  art.  She  probably, 
in  fact  certainly,  hasn't  told  him  what  she  told  me — that 
she  has  come  to  Ballymoy  with  the  intention  of  going  on 
with  her  work.  He'll  think  that  the  narrow  shave  she 
had  over  the  Lorimer  affair  will  have  given  her  a  lesson, 
and  that  from  now  on  she'll  want  to  settle  down  and 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  193 

live  a  quiet,  affectionate  kind  of  life.  When  she  kissed 
him  in  that  spontaneous  way  this  morning,  what  do  you 
suppose  was  passing  through  his  mind?  What  was  he 
thinking?  Remember  that  he  hadn't  seen  her  since  the 
day  of  the  trial,  and  then  ask  yourself  what  thoughts 
those  two  kisses  would  suggest  to  him." 

"  I  don't  know.  That  she  was  glad  to  see  him,  I 
suppose." 

"A  great  deal  more  than  that.  A  judge  doesn't  stop 
short  at  those  superficial  views  of  things.  He  looks  deep 
lown  into  the  more  recondite  emotions  of  the  human  heart. 
As  soon  as  he  felt  those  kisses  he  said  to  himself :  '  Here 
is  a  poor  girl  who's  really  sorry  for  what  she's  done — '  " 

"  I  thought  you  said  he  didn't  believe  she'd  done  it. 
I  certainly  don't." 

"As  a  judge  he  doesn't;  but  I'm  speaking  of  him 
now  as  an  uncle,  a  simple  unofficial  uncle.  As  an  uncle 
he  can't  help  recollecting  poor  Lorimer,  but  he'll  want  to 
give  his  niece  every  possible  fair  play,  and  as  soon  as 
she  showed  signs  of  penitence — her  kisses  were  a  pretty 
convincing  sign  of  penitence,  considering  the  way  he 
summed  up  against  her — he'd  be  all  for  burying  the 
past  and  letting  her  get  a  fresh  start  in  life  if  she  could." 

"  Of  course  I  don't  attach  the  smallest  importance  to 
anything  you've  said.  I  don't  believe,  in  the  first  place, 
that  Miss  King  is  Mrs.  Lorimer.  I  don't  believe  any 
judge  would  try  to  hang  his  own  niece.  I  don't  believe, 
if  he  had  tried  her,  he'd  go  and  stop  in  the  house  with 
her  afterwards,  and  I'm  perfectly  certain  he  wouldn't 
kiss  her.  But  you  apparently  like  to  pretend  to  me  that 
you  do  believe  all  the  rot  you've  been  talking,  and  that 
being  so,  I'd  rather  like  to  know  what  you  intend  to  do 
next." 


194  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  It  doesn't  in  the  least  matter  to  you  what  I  do,"  said 
Meldon.  "If  I'm  the  kind  of  drivelling  idiot  you  make 
out,  my  actions  are  of  no  importance,  either  to  you  or  to 
any  one  else." 

"  All  the  same,  I'd  like  to  know  what  they're  going  to 
be." 

"Why?" 

"  So  that  I  can  do  my  best  to  prevent  their  doing  any 
irreparable  mischief,  if  possible;  though  I  don't  expect 
it  is  possible." 

"  I  shall  do  no  irreparable  mischief  to  any  one,"  said 
Meldon,  "  except  Simpkins ;  and  you  always  said  you 
wanted  him  poisoned." 

"  I  never  said  such  a  thing." 

"  Keep  cool,  Major.  There's  no  use  losing  your  temper. 
You  and  Doyle  and  O'Donoghue  all  said  you'd  be  glad 
to  gloat  over  Simpkins'  corpse.  If  you  hadn't  said  so  I 
shouldn't  be  taking  all  this  trouble.  If  I  didn't  still 
believe  that  you  hate  Simpkins  I  should  drop  the  matter 
at  once.  After  all,  it's  no  business  of  mine." 

"  Then  do  drop  it.  Like  a  good  man,  J.  J.,  leave  Miss 
King  alone,  and  let  the  judge  fish  in  peace." 

"  No ;  I  won't.  I'll  see  the  thing  through  now  I'm 
this  far,  and  within  easy  reach  of  success.  I  don't  want 
to  have  you  reproaching  me  afterwards  for  going  back 
on  my  word." 

"  I  won't  reproach  you.     I  promise  not  to." 

"  You'd  mean  not  to ;  but  when  the  present  flurry  is 
over,  and  when  Simpkins  begins  to  annoy  you  again 
about  the  fishing  and  other  things,  you  won't  be  able 
to  help  reproaching  me.  Even  if  you  refrain  from  actual 
words  I  shall  see  it  in  your  eye.  I  can't  go  through 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  195 

life,  Major,  haunted  by  your  eye  with  a  mute,  unspoken 
reproach  in  it." 

Major  Kent  sighed  heavily. 

"  Then  what  do  you  mean  to  do  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  shall  see  the  judge  to-morrow,"  said  Meldon, 
"  and—" 

"  I  advise  you  not  to.  He's  sure  to  have  found  out 
about  the  paraffin  oil  by  that  time." 

"  I'm  prepared  for  that.  There  may  be  some  slight 
temporary  unpleasantness,  but  that  will  pass  away  at 
once  when  the  judge  hears  the  proposal  that  I  have  to 
make." 

"What's  that?" 

"  That  he  should  encourage  the  marriage  between 
Simpkins  and  his  niece.  I  shall  explain  to  him  that  it  is 
very  much  to  his  own  interest  to  do  so,  and  of  course 
he'll  see  the  force  of  what  I  say  at  once.  I  shan't  men- 
tion the  ultimate  fate  of  Simpkins.  I  don't  suppose  he'd 
care  much  if  I  did.  He  can't  be  particularly  keen  on 
preserving  Simpkins'  life,  for  he  doesn't  know  him.  Still 
it  is  best  to  avoid  all  risks,  and  I  shall  treat  the  marriage 
as  the  ordinary  conventional  love-match,  without  hinting 
at  any  connection  between  it  and  Miss  King's  peculiar  art. 
When  I've  settled  things  up  with  him — that'll  be  about 
twelve  or  one  o'clock,  if  I  get  at  him  before  he  starts 
fishing  for  the  day — I  shall  go  down  to  the  village  and 
get  a  hold  of  Simpkins.  He'll  be  in  his  office,  I  expect. 
I  shall  lunch  with  him,  and  then  lead  him  up  and  lay 
him  at  Miss  King's  feet." 

"  Will  he  go  for  you  ?  He  hasn't  shown  any  great 
eagerness  for  the  match  so  far." 

"  I  shan't  give  him  much  choice,"  said  Meldon.    "  I 


196  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

shall  tell  him  that  the  thing  has  got  to  be  done  at  once. 
Very  few  men  are  able  to  stand  up  to  me  when  I  take  a 
really  determined  tone  with  them,  and  I  shall  speak  in 
the  strongest  way  to  Simpkins.  When  I  have,  so  to 
speak,  deposited  him  in  front  of  Miss  King — " 

"  On  his  knees  ?  "  said  the  Major. 

"  Very  probably.  In  these  matters  of  detail  I  must  of 
course  be  guided  by  circumstances ;  but  when  I  have  put 
him  down,  either  on  his  knees  or  in  some  other  posture, 
I  shall  slip  away  unobtrusively — " 

"  I  should  like  to  see  you  doing  that.  I  don't  think  you 
could.  You're  generally  more  obtrusive  than  any  one 
else  I've  ever  met." 

"  Leaving  them  together,"  said  Meldon,  "  with  Cal- 
laghan  watching  from  behind  a  tree,  so  as  to  be  able  to 
report  to  me  exactly  what  happens.  In  the  meanwhile 
I  shall  stroll  up  the  river  and  find  the  judge.  If  he  isn't 
actually  into  a  fish  at  the  moment,  I  shall  bring  him 
straight  down  to  the  house  and  let  him  hear  the  result 
at  once.  If  he  has  a  salmon  hooked,  I  shall  of  course  wait 
till  it's  landed,  and  then  bring  him  down.  Afterwards  I 
shall  take  Simpkins  up  to  the  rectory  and  make  arrange- 
ments about  the  licence.  We  ought,  bar  accidents,  to 
have  the  whole  thing  finished  in  the  inside  of  a  fortnight 
from  now.  After  that  I  must  leave  it  in  the  hands  of 
O'Donoghue.  He'll  have  to  be  careful  how  he  treats 
Simpkins  when  he's  called  in.  It  won't  do  to  make 
mistakes  and  go  curing  him  accidentally." 

"  I  suppose,"  said  the  Major  bitterly,  "  that  you'll  em- 
ploy Sabina  Gallagher  to  make  the  wedding-cake.  She 
might  begin  the  poisoning." 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Meldon.  "  Sabina  couldn't  make 
a  wedding-cake,  and  in  any  case  Simpkins  won't  eat 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  197 

enough  of  his  own  wedding-cake  to  do  him  any  harm, 
whatever  it's  made  of.  If  you  were  accustomed  to  wed- 
dings, Major,  you'd  know  that  the  whole  cake  is  invariably 
eaten  by  the  postoffice  officials — a  most  deserving  class, 
whom  nobody  wants  to  poison.  Besides,  in  a  case  like 
this,  it  will  be  better  to  avoid  all  publicity  and  show.  It 
wouldn't  do  to  have  the  newspapers  getting  hold  of  the 
fact  that  Mrs.  Lorimer  is  being  married  again  so  soon. 
There'd  be  paragraphs,  and  the  suspicions  of  Simpkins 
would  be  excited.  On  the  whole,  I  don't  think  we'll 
have  a  wedding-cake,  or  bridesmaids,  or  anything  of 
that  sort.  But  you  can  be  best  man  if  you  like." 

"  I  know  you  don't  mean  a  word  you're  saying,  J.  J., 
and  that  you  won't  really  do  anything." 

"  Wait  and  see." 

"  But  if  I  thought  you  meant  to  cause  Miss  King  the 
slightest  uneasiness  or  discomfort,  I  should  simply  turn 
you  straight  out  of  my  house.  I  wouldn't  be  a  party  for 
a  single  moment  to  any  plan  for  insulting  a  really  nice 
woman  like  Miss  King." 

"Don't  fret  about  that,"  said  Meldon.  "What  I'm 
doing  is  exactly  what  Miss  King  wants  done.  She  told 
me  so  herself." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

SIR  GILBERT  HAWKESBY  was,  on  the  whole,  a 
good-tempered  man ;  but  he  was  liable  to  sudden  out- 
bursts of  anger  of  a  violent  kind.  Lady  Hawkesby  knew 
this,  and  always  bowed  meekly  to  the  storm.  His  butler 
knew  it,  and  felt  no  resentment  when  he  was  called  an 
incompetent  fool.  The  barristers  who  practised  their  art 
in  his  court  knew  it,  and  always  gave  up  pressing  objec- 
tionable points  on  his  notice  when  they  recognised  the 
early  signs  of  approaching  indignation.  The  butler  and 
the  barristers,  not  Lady  Hawkesby,  admitted  that  the 
judge's  anger  was  invariably  justified.  He  never  lost 
control  of  himself  without  some  good  excuse.  Therefore 
they  suffered  patiently,  knowing  that  they  suffered  justly, 
and  knowing  also  that  they  would  not  suffer  long ;  for  the 
judge's  outbursts  were  as  brief  as  they  were  fierce,  and  he 
bore  no  malice  afterwards.  Doyle  unfortunately  did  not 
know  Sir  Gilbert's  peculiarities,  and  so  he  was  depressed 
and  unhappy.  Sabina  Gallagher  did  not  know  them 
either,  and  the  judge  had  not  spared  her.  He  had  no 
hesitation,  as  Lady  Hawkesby,  the  butler,  and  the  bar- 
risters knew,  in  attacking  the  most  defenceless  people 
when  the  mood  was  on  him,  and  he  had  used  exceptionally 
strong  language  to  Sabina  Gallagher.  It  took  him  on 
this  occasion  longer  than  usual  to  recover  his  self-pos- 

198 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  199 

session.  He  gave  no  kiss  in  response  to  his  niece's 
affectionate  salutation.  He  ate  the  really  excellenf 
luncheon  which  she  had  prepared  for  him  in  gloomy 
silence  and  without  a  sign  of  appreciation.  The  gilly, 
who  accompanied  him  up  the  river  in  the  afternoon,  came 
in  for  the  last  gusts  of  the  expiring  storm. 

At  about  four  o'clock  Sir  Gilbert  hooked  a  fine  salmon 
and  landed  him  successfully.  The  gilly,  who  was  a  man 
of  tact,  greatly  over-estimated  the  weight  of  the  fish, 
and  paid  a  rich  compliment  to  the  judge's  skill.  Miss 
King  said  all  the  most  appropriate  things  in  tones  of 
warm  conversation.  Sir  Gilbert  began  to  feel  that  life 
was  not  altogether  an  intolerable  affliction.  An  hour 
later,  in  a  pool  strongly  recommended  by  the  gilly,  another 
fish  was  caught.  It  was  inferior  to  the  first  in  size,  but 
it  was  a  very  satisfactory  creature  to  look  at.  The 
judge's  temper  was  quite  normal  when  he  sat  down  at 
dinner.  When,  at  Miss  King's  request,  he  lit  his  cigar 
in  the  drawing-room  afterwards,  he  began  to  take  a 
humorous  view  of  the  misfortunes  of  the  morning. 

"  I  ought  to  have  accepted  your  invitation  at  once, 
Milly,  and  not  attempted  to  live  at  the  local  hotel.  I 
never  came  across  such  a  place  in  my  life,  though  I  have 
knocked  about  a  good  deal  and  am  pretty  well  accustomed 
to  roughing  it.  My  bedroom  reeked  of  abominable  dis- 
infectants. The  floor  was  half  an  inch  deep  in  chloride 
of  lime.  The  sheets  were  soaked  with —  By  the  way, 
what  is  the  name  of  the  local  parson  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Miss  King.  "  He's  an  old  man, 
and,  I  fancy,  delicate.  I've  never  seen  him.  He  wasn't 
in  church  last  Sunday." 

"Has  he  a  curate?" 

"Yes;  I  believe  so.    But  the  curate  is  away  on  his 


200  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

holiday.  Somebody — I  forgot  who ;  very  likely  Callaghan 
the  gardener — told  me  so.  At  all  events,  I've  not  seen 
anything  of  him.  But  what  do  you  want  with  the  local 
clergy  ?  " 

"  I  only  want  one  of  them,"  said  the  judge ;  "  but  I 
want  him  rather  badly.  The  man  I  mean  can't  be  a 
Roman  Catholic  priest.  He  has  a  bright  red  moustache. 
I  wonder  if  you've  come  across  him." 

"  That  must  be  Mr.  Meldon.  He  has  a  parish  some- 
where in  England,  I  believe.  He's  over  here  on  his 
holiday.  I  travelled  in  the  carriage  with  him  from 
Dublin.  He  is  staying  with  a  Major  Kent." 

"  He's  apparently  quite  mad,"  said  the  judge,  "  and 
ought  to  be  shut  up.  He's  dangerous  to  society." 

"  He's  certainly  eccentric.  We  had  a  long  talk  in  the 
train,  and  he  told  me  a  lot  about  his  baby,  which  had  been 
keeping  him  awake  at  night.  I  was  out  yachting  one 
day  with  him  and  Major  Kent." 

"  Don't  go  again,"  said  the  judge.  "  Your  life  wouldn't 
be  safe.  Is  Major  Kent  mad  too  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all.  He  struck  me  as  a  very  pleasant  man, 
most  considerate  and  kind." 

"  He  must  be  very  unusually  kind  if  he  tolerates 
Meldon.  Of  all  the  objectionable  lunatics  I  ever  met, 
that  parson  is  out  and  away  the  worst." 

"  I  shouldn't  have  said  he  was  actually  mad.  In  some 
ways  I  think  he's  rather  clever.  He  preached  quite  a 
remarkable  sermon  last  Sunday,  the  sort  of  sermon  you 
can't  help  listening  to." 

"  I  can  easily  believe  that,"  said  the  judge.  "  He 
preached  me  a  sermon  yesterday  which  I'm  not  at  all 
likely  to  forget." 

"  Where  did  you  meet  him,  Uncle  Gilbert  ?  " 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  201 

"  I  didn't  meet  him.  He  met  me.  I  shouldn't  have 
dreamed  of  meeting  him.  He  met  me  at  the  railway 
station  at  Donard,  and  invited  himself  to  luncheon  with 
me.  He  also  brought  a  doctor  whom  he  had  along  with 
him.  Then  he  warned  me  that  my  life  wouldn't  be  safe 
in  Ballymoy.  I  thought  he  was  the  usual  sort  of  fool 
with  scare  ideas  about  leagues  and  boycotting.  But  it 
wasn't  that  at  all.  He  thought  he'd  frighten  me  off  with 
stories  about  bad  drains;  said  I'd  be  sure  to  die  if  I 
stayed  at  the  hotel.  He  was  quite  right  there,  I  must 
say.  I  should  have  died  if  I  hadn't  left  at  once." 

"  Were  they  very  bad  ?  " 

"Were  what  very  bad?  Oh,  the  drains.  Not  at  all. 
At  least  I  daresay  they  were  bad  enough.  I  wasn't  there 
long  enough  to  find  out.  But  I  shouldn't  have  died  of 
the  drains  in  any  case.  I'm  not  the  kind  of  man  who 
catches  diseases." 

Sir  Gilbert's  chest  swelled  a  little  as  he  spoke,  and  he 
slowly  puffed  out  a  large  cloud  of  smoke.  He  was  justly 
proud  of  his  physical  health,  and  was  accustomed  to  hurl 
defiance  at  microbes  and  to  heap  contempt  on  the  doctor's 
art. 

"  I'm  sure  you're  not,"  said  Miss  King  dutifully. 

"  What  I  should  have  died  of,"  said  the  judge,  "  if  I 
had  died,  would  have  been  starvation.  You'll  hardly 
believe  me  when  I  tell  you  that  every  scrap  of  food  I 
got,  even  the  boiled  egg  which  I  ordered  for  breakfast, 
thinking  it  would  be  safe — " 

Miss  King  had  heard  all  about  the  paraffin  oil  before. 
She  had  indeed  heard  about  it  more  than  once.  She  did 
not  want  to  hear  of  it  again,  because  she  feared  that  a 
repetition  of  the  story  might  put  her  uncle  into  another 
bad  temper. 


202  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  I  can't  understand  it,"  she  said.  "  How  any  one 
could  be  so  careless  as — " 

"  It  wasn't  carelessness,"  said  the  judge.  "  If  it  had 
been  I  might  have  given  the  place  another  trial.  It  was 
done  on  purpose." 

"  Surely  not." 

"  I  pursued  the  cook,"  said  the  judge,  "  into  the  fast- 
nesses of  her  kitchen.  She  fled  before  me,  but  I  ran  her 
to  earth  at  last  in  the  scullery.  A  filthier  hole  I  never 
saw.  I  went  for  her  straight,  and  expected  to  be  told  a 
story  about  somebody  or  other  upsetting  a  lamp  over  all 
her  pots  and  pans.  Instead  of  that,  she  answered  me, 
without  a  sign  of  hesitation  and  said —  Now  what  do 
you  think  she  said  ?  " 

"  I  can't  guess.  Not  that  she  thought  you'd  like  the 
flavour?" 

"  No.  She  hadn't  quite  the  effrontery  to  say  that. 
She  told  me  that  Mr.  Meldon,  this  parson  of  yours  who 
takes  you  out  yachting,  had  given  orders  before  I  came 
that  all  my  food  was  to  be  soaked  with  paraffin  oil." 

"  Oh !     But  that's  too  absurd." 

"  So  you'd  think.  So  I  thought  at  the  moment.  I 
didn't  believe  her.  I  thought  she  was  putting  up  an 
unusual  line  of  defence  to  excuse  her  own  gross  careless- 
ness. But  I  was  evidently  wrong.  The  girl  seems  to 
have  been  telling  the  truth.  I  think  I  mentioned  to  you 
the  state  in  which  I  found  my  bed  last  night." 

"  You  said  it  was  damp." 

"  Damp !  I  never  said  damp.  Soaking  is  the  word  I 
used ;  or  at  all  events  ought  to  have  used.  It  was  soak- 
ing with  Condy's  Fluid,  as  it  turned  out,  though  I  didn't 
know  at  the  time  what  the  stuff  was.  I  had  an  interview 
with  the  hotel-keeper  himself,  a  ruffian  of  the  name  of 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  203 

Doyle,  about  that.  I  had  very  nearly  to  break  the  bell 
before  I  could  get  any  one  to  come  to  me.  It's  a  very 
odd  thing,  but  he  told  me  practically  the  same  story ;  said 
that  this  man  Meldon,  whoever  he  is,  had  given  orders 
to  have  Condy's  Fluid  poured  all  over  my  bed  and 
chloride  of  lime  shovelled  on  to  the  floor.  I  did  not 
believe  him  at  the  time  any  more  than  I  believed  that 
miserable  slut  of  a  cook  the  next  morning.  I  was  in 
such  a  temper  when  I  left  that  I  didn't  think  of  putting 
their  two  stories  together ;  but  going  over  the  whole  thing 
this  afternoon  in  my  mind  it  struck  me  as  rather  peculiar 
that  they  should  both  have  hit  on  such  a  grotesque  sort 
of  a  lie,  if  it  was  a  lie." 

"  Surely  you  don't  think  that  Mr.  Meldon — he's  rather 
eccentric,  I  know,  but  I  can  scarcely  believe  that 
he'd—" 

"  I'm  not  at  all  sure  what  I  ought  to  think.  It  seems 
unkindly  that  any  clergyman,  unless  he  is  quite  mad,  and 
you  say  he's  not  mad — " 

"  No ;  he's  not  mad.  He's  peculiar.  But  he  is  certainly 
not  mad.  Major  Kent  has  the  highest  opinion  of  him, 
and  Major  Kent  is  quite  sane." 

The  judge  threw  the  end  of  his  cigar  into  the  fire  and 
sat  silent  for  a  minute  or  two.  His  mind  was  working 
on  the  curious  series  of  events  which  had  followed  his 
arrival  in  Ballymoy.  He  became  very  much  interested. 

"  Milly,"  he  said  at  last,  "  I'll  take  your  word  for  it 
that  the  man's  not  mad.  But  how  on  earth  am  I  to 
explain  his  actions  ?  For  I  really  have  no  doubt  that  he's 
at  the  bottom  of  all  I've  been  through.  First  of  all,  he 
met  me  at  the  station  at  Donard,  having  travelled  twenty 
miles  for  the  express  purpose  of  trying  to  prevent  my 
coming  on  here.  Now  why  did  he  do  that  ?  " 


204  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  Perhaps  he  really  thought  you'd  be  uncomfortable 
at  the  hotel." 

"  He  seems  to  have  done  his  best  to  make  me  un- 
comfortable, anyhow." 

"  And  succeeded,"  said  Miss  King  with  a  smile. 

"  And  succeeded  brilliantly.  I  don't  in  the  least  wish 
to  deny  that.  I  never  was  more  uncomfortable  in  my 
life.  But  what  I  want  to  know  is,  what  possible  motive 
he  had  for  doing  it.  Unless  he's  an  absolute  lunatic, 
and  you  say  he's  not  that — " 

"  No.  He's  sane,  though  I  think  he's  decidedly  eccen- 
tric." 

"  Then  he  must  have  had  a  motive  of  some  sort.  He 
plainly  doesn't  want  to  have  me  here  in  Ballymoy.  Now 
why  not?  That's  what's  puzzling  me.  Why  not?  I 
never  saw  the  man  in  my  life  till  yesterday.  I  never 
heard  of  him.  What  on  earth  can  it  matter  to  him 
whether  I  spend  a  fortnight  here  or  not  ?  " 

"  There  was  some  dispute  about  the  fishing  before  you 
came,"  said  Miss  King.  "  I  heard  about  it  from  Cal- 
laghan  the  gardener.  Mr.  Meldon's  friend,  Major  Kent, 
thought  he  had  a  right  to  fish  in  some  part  of  the  river — " 

"  But  what  difference  would  my  being  here  make  ? 
I'm  not  the  owner  of  the  fishing.  Major  Kent  may  be 
right  or  wrong.  But  there's  no  use  his  disputing  with 
me.  He  wouldn't  be  in  a  bit  better  position  if  I  had 
turned  round  and  gone  home." 

"  I  suppose  not." 

"  So  we  may  rule  that  explanation  out  of  court.  And 
yet  the  man  must  have  had  a  motive  of  some  sort.  No 
one  would  take  all  the  trouble  that  he  has  taken  unless 
he  saw  his  way  to  gain  something  by  it."  The  judge 
paused  again,  thinking  deeply.  Then  he  smiled  suddenly. 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  205 

"  Look  here,  Milly.  You  don't  mind  my  asking  you 
rather  a  personal  question,  do  you  ?  " 

"  Not  a  bit.  My  conscience  is  quite  easy.  I  didn't 
bribe  the  cook  to  put  paraffin  oil  in  your  dinner,  and  I 
should  never  have  thought  of  pouring  Condy's  Fluid 
over  your  bed." 

"  Has  that  curate,  Meldon,  I  mean — " 

"  He's  not  a  curate,"  said  Miss  King.  "  He's  a  vicar 
at  least." 

"  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  he  turned  out  to  be  an  arch- 
deacon. But  has  he —  It's  rather  an  awkward  question 
to  ask;  but  you're  not  a  child,  Milly.  You  know  that 
you're  a  very  attractive  young  woman,  and  you  have 
what  would  seem  to  some  people  quite  a  good  fortune, 
besides  what  you  earn  by  your  writing.  Has  this  man 
been  trying  to  make  love  to  you  ?  " 

Miss  King  laughed  aloud.  The  cheerful  ring  of  her 
obviously  spontaneous  mirth  shattered  the  theory  which 
the  judge  was  building  up. 

"  No,"  she  said ;  "  he  has  not.  Quite  the  contrary. 
Oh,  Uncle  Gilbert,  I  must  tell  you.  It's  too  funny.  He 
warned  me  in  the  most  solemn  way  that  I  wasn't  to 
attempt  to  make  love  to  him." 

"  In  spite  of  all  you  say,  Milly,  he  must  be  stark  mad." 

"  No.  He  thought,  he  really  did  think,  that  I  wanted 
to  flirt  with  him,  and  he  told  me  not  to.  He  said  he 
couldn't  have  it.  I  was  awfully  angry  with  him  at  the 
time.  No  one  ever  said  such  a  thing  to  me  before. 
It  was  the  first  day  he  called  here." 

"  Does  he  often  call  here?  " 

"  Nearly  every  day.  He  was  here  this  afternoon  while 
we  were  up  the  river.  He  said  he  wanted  to  see  me  on 
most  important  business." 


206  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  I  wish  I'd  seen  him." 

"  You  will  soon.     He's  sure  to  come  to-morrow." 

"  If  he  does,"  said  the  judge,  "  I'll  take  the  opportunity 
of  having  a  talk  with  him.  But  tell  me  more  about  that 
curious  incident,  Milly.  Are  you  sure  he  doesn't  want 
to  make  love  to  you  ?  " 

"  Quite.  I  couldn't  possibly  be  mistaken.  Besides, 
he's  married.  He  told  me  that  in  the  most  insulting  way, 
so  as  to  prevent  my  making  any  attempt  to  marry  him 
myself." 

"  Of  course  that  settles  it,"  said  the  judge.  "  I  thought 
for  a  moment  that  he  might  possibly  have  some  wild 
idea  of  marrying  you.  That  would  account  for  his  mak- 
ing the  desperate  efforts  he  has  made  to  keep  me  out  of 
the  place.  He'd  know  that  I  wouldn't  like  you  to  marry 
a  mad  parson.  But  if  it  wasn't  that,  Milly,  and  after 
all  you've  told  me  it  clearly  can't  be,  what  on  earth  is  the 
idea  at  the  back  of  his  mind?  Why  has  he  arranged 
for  this  systematic  persecution  of  me  ?  " 

"  Are  you  sure  the  fishing  dispute  has  nothing  to  do 
with  it  ?  I  can't  think  of  anything  else." 

"  Unless  he's  a  fool,"  said  the  judge,  "  he  can't  suppose 
that  my  giving  up  the  fishing  would  make  it  any  easier 
for  his  friend  to  poach." 

"  Major  Kent  wouldn't  poach,"  said  Miss  King  warmly. 
"  He's  a  gentleman.  If  you  knew  him,  Uncle  Gilbert, 
you  wouldn't  say  such  things  about  him." 

"  You  seem  to  know  him  very  well,"  said  the  judge. 
"  Oh  yes !  You  told  me  you  had  been  out  yachting. 
Does  he  often  call  here?  " 

"  He  was  here  on  Sunday  afternoon.  Yes,  and  on 
Tuesday,  now  I  come  to  think  of  it." 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  207 

"  And  you  were  out  yachting  with  him  on  the  Monday 
in  between.  That's  not  bad  for  three  days,  eh,  Milly  ?  " 

He  looked  at  her  keenly  as  he  spoke,  and  a  half  smile 
flickered  on  his  lips.  Miss  King  blushed  slightly,  and 
then,  being  very  angry  with  herself  for  blushing,  grew 
quite  red  in  the  face.  The  judge's  smile  broadened. 

"  From  what  you've  seen  of  this  man  Meldon,"  he 
said,  "  would  you  suppose  that  he's  a  very  altruistic  sort 
of  person  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Is  he  the  sort  of  man  who'd  put  himself  about  a  great 
deal  and  take  a  lot  of  trouble  for  the  sake  of  doing  a 
good  turn  to  a  friend?  Do  you  think,  for  instance,  that 
he'd  indulged  in  all  sorts  of  elaborate  practical  jokes  with 
a  view  to  frightening  me  out  of  Ballymoy,  if  he  thought 
my  presence  here  was  likely  to  interfere  with  any  plan 
that  his  friend  Major  Kent  might  have  very  much  at 
heart?" 

Miss  King  looked  at  the  judge  in  some  surprise.  Then 
she  suddenly  blushed  again. 

"  Uncle  Gilbert,"  she  said,  "  you're  too  bad.  I  know 
what  you're  thinking  about.  But  why  do  you  suppose 
that  any  of  these  men  should  want  to  marry  me  ?  " 

"  You're  a  very  attractive  young  woman,  my  dear," 
said  the  judge.  "  I  can  quite  understand —  What  sort 
of  a  man  is  this  Major  Kent  ?  " 

"  I  won't  talk  about  him,"  said  Miss  King.  "  It's  not 
nice  of  you  to  cross-question  me  in  that  way.  I  hate 
being  treated  as  if  I  did  nothing  but  go  about  hunting 
for  a  husband ;  as  if  I  never  spoke  to  man  without  wonder- 
ing in  my  own  mind  whether  he'd  be  likely  to  marry  me. 
That's  the  way  you  always  treat  us,  and  I  won't  stand  it. 


208  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

If  there  are  such  women,  and  I  don't  think  there  are 
many,  I'm  not  one  of  them." 

"  No,"  said  the  judge;  "  you're  not.  If  you  had  been 
you'd  have  been  married  long  ago.  But  in  this  case  it 
seems  that  the  possible  husband  is  hunting  you  with  some 
vigour.  He  has  certainly  done  his  best  to  get  rid  of  me, 
regarding  me,  no  doubt,  as  a  possible  obstacle  in  his  way." 

"  I'm  sure  Major  Kent  had  nothing  to  do  with  that. 
He's  not  at  all  the  kind  of  man  who'd  make  plans  and 
schemes.  But  the  whole  thing  is  utterly  absurd.  What's 
the  good  of  talking  about  it  ?  " 

"  It  is  utterly  absurd.  It's  the  most  absurd  thing  I 
ever  heard  of  in  my  life.  I  simply  wouldn't  have 
believed  it  possible  if  it  hadn't  actually  happened,  that 
this  red-haired  parson — the  man  has  a  perfectly  diabolical 
imagination.  I  wonder  what  he'll  do  next.  I  feel  certain 
he  won't  give  up.  Could  he  possibly  get  at  your  cook, 
Milly?" 

"  I'm  sure  he  couldn't.  Hodge  has  the  greatest  con- 
tempt for  all  the  Irish.  She  regards  them  as  savages, 
and  is  rather  surprised  to  find  that  they  wear  clothes." 

"  That's  a  comfort.  I  can  face  almost  anything  if  I 
get  my  food  properly.  But  I  must  keep  a  careful  look 
out.  Meldon  seems  to  me  the  kind  of  man  who  wouldn't 
stick  at  a  trifle,  and  he's  evidently  determined  to  get  rid 
of  me." 

"  Perhaps  he'll  ask  you  out  yachting  and — " 

"  And  maroon  me  on  a  desert  island  ?  " 

"  No,  but  make  you —  Oh !  I  forgot,  you  don't  get 
sea-sick." 

"  No.  There's  not  a  bit  of  use  his  trying  to  get  the 
better  of  me  in  that  way.  I  should  simply  laugh  at  the 
worst  ground  swell  he  can  produce.  I  hope  he  will  ask 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  209 

me  out  yachting.  I  should  like  to  have  a  nice  long  day 
alone  with  Mr.  Meldon.  He's  a  man  worth  knowing." 

The  conversation  drifted  on  to  other  topics.  The 
judge,  after  the  manner  of  fishermen,  rehearsed  the 
capture  of  his  two  salmon,  compared  them  to  similar  fish 
caught  elsewhere,  and  made  enquiries  about  the  netting 
at  the  mouth  of  the  river.  At  about  ten  o'clock  he  lit  a 
fresh  cigar  and  returned  to  the  subject  of  Meldon. 

"  You  say,"  he  said,  "  that  he's  likely  to  call  here  to- 
morrow morning." 

"  He's  almost  certain  to.  Except  the  day  when  he 
went  to  meet  you  at  Donard  he  has  never  missed  paying 
me  a  visit." 

"About  four  o'clock,  I  suppose,  is  his  regular  hour?" 

"  He  has  no  regular  hour,"  said  Miss  King.  "  He's 
quite  unconventional.  He  may  drop  in  for  breakfast, 
or  he  may  turn  up  suddenly  while  we're  dressing  for 
dinner." 

"  I  hope  he'll  do  one  or  the  other.  I  don't  want  to 
sit  waiting  for  him  all  day.  If  he  comes  while  I'm  fishing 
you  must  bring  him  up  the  river  after  me.  By  the  way, 
how  is  your  novel  getting  on,  Milly?  Have  you  finished 
it  off?" 

"  I've  hardly  done  a  stroke  of  work  since  I  came  here. 
I'm  dissatisfied  with  the  whole  thing.  I'm  thinking  of 
beginning  it  again." 

"  If  you  do,"  said  the  judge,  "  put  Meldon  into  it." 

"  I  should  like  to." 

"  Do.  Tell  the  story  of  his  bribing  the  cook  to  poison 
me,  and  I'll  buy  two  hundred  copies  straight  away.  I've 
always  wanted  to  be  put  into  a  novel,  and  I  should  like 
to  go  down  to  posterity  side  by  side  with  Meldon." 

"  I  wish  I  could." 


210  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  There's  no  difficulty  that  I  can  see.  He'll  do  equally 
well  for  a  hero  or  a  villain." 

"  I'm  afraid  all  the  other  characters  would  look  like 
fools.  That's  the  difficulty." 

"  They  would,"  said  the  judge.  "  I'm  very  much  afraid 
they  would.  Perhaps  after  all  you'd  better  not.  put  me 
in.  Let  him  poison  some  one  else.  I  shouldn't  be  an 
attractive  figure  if  I  were  posed  as  one  of  Meldon's 
victims." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Miss  King,  "  I  might  work  out  the  plot 
in  such  a  way  that  you'd  get  the  better  of  him  in  the  end." 

"  I  fully  intend  to.  I  shall  see  him  to-morrow,  and  if 
the  thing  is  possible  at  all,  I  shall  make  him  thoroughly 
ashamed  of  himself." 

"  Then  I'll  wait  till  after  to-morrow,"  said  Miss  King, 
"  before  I  decide  on  my  plot.  It  will  be  much  easier 
for  me  if  I  get  the  whole  thing  ready-made." 

Sir  Gilbert  Hawkesby  finished  his  cigar  and  went  to  bed. 
He  was  tolerably  well  satisfied  with  himself.  He  under- 
stood, so  he  believed,  the  motives  which  had  induced 
Meldon  to  make  his  life  in  Ballymoy  uncomfortable. 
He  was  sure  that  Miss  King  was  able  to  manage  her  own 
affairs,  and  he  was  not  anxious  to  make  objections  to  her 
marrying  Major  Kent,  or  any  other  tolerably  respectable 
man  whom  she  happened  to  like.  He  knew,  too,  that 
Lady  Hawkesby  would  be  pleased  to  have  her  niece 
settled  in  life  in  any  way  which  would  put  a  stop  to  the 
growing  notoriety  of  the  novels  she  wrote. 


AT  breakfast  the  next  morning  Major  Kent  spoke 
to  Meldon  in  a  gentle,  rather  hopeless  tone.  It 
was  as  if  he  had  no  great  expectation  of  his  words  pro- 
ducing any  effect. 

"  I  suppose,"  he  said,  "  that  nothing  I  can  say  will 
prevent  your  thrusting  yourself  into  the  company  of  this 
judge  to-day." 

"  If  you  refer,"  said  Meldon,  "  to  my  intention  of 
calling  civilly  on  Sir  Gilbert  Hawkesby,  nothing  you  say 
will  alter  my  view  that  it  is  a  very  proper  thing  to  do, 
considering  that  the  man  is  a  stranger  in  the  locality." 

"  Then  I  beg  of  you,  J.  J.,  to  be  careful.  Don't  say 
anything  insulting  about  Miss  King.  Remember  that 
she's  his  niece,  and  he  won't  like  to  hear  her  abused. 
Besides,  he'll  tell  her  what  you  say  afterwards,  and  it 
would  be  very  painful  to  her  to  hear  the  sort  of  accusa- 
tions you've  been  bringing  against  her  since  she  came 
to  Ballymoy." 

"  Major,"  said  Meldon,  "  we've  been  intimate  friends 
for  years,  and  you  ought  to  know  that,  whatever  else  I 
may  be,  I'm  always  a  gentleman.  Is  it  likely  I'd  go  out 
of  my  way  to  insult  a  helpless  woman  ?  " 

"  You  wouldn't  mean  to,  J.  J.,  but  you  might  do  it. 
Your  ideas  of  what  is  insulting  are  so  peculiar.  Believ- 

211 


212  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

ing  the  sort  of  things  you  do  believe  about  her,  you  might 
say  something  very  offensive  without  meaning  any  harm. 
Do  be  careful." 

"  I  shall  not  allude  to  her  past,  if  that's  what  you  are 
thinking  of.  I  never  have  alluded  to  her  past  to  any  one 
but  you,  except  on  the  one  occasion  on  which  she  brought 
up  the  subject  herself.  Nothing  could  possibly  be  in 
worse  taste  than  to  fling  that  story  in  the  judge's  face." 

"  I  wish,"  said  the  Major,  "  that  I  could  persuade  you 
not  to  be  quite  so  cock-sure  about  what  you  call  her  past. 
You  ought  to  try  and  realise  that  you  may  possibly  be 
mistaken." 

"  That,"  said  Meldon,  "  is  practically  what  Oliver 
Cromwell  said  to  the  Scotch  Presbyterian  ministers.  It 
may  have  been  a  sound  remark  from  his  point  of  view, 
but  I'm  rather  surprised  to  hear  you  quoting  and  endors- 
ing it.  I  always  thought  you  were  a  Conservative." 

"  I  am.  But  what  has  that  got  to  do  with  your  theories 
about—?" 

"If  you  are  a  Conservative  you  ought  not  to  be  back- 
ing up  Oliver  Cromwell.  He  was  a  revolutionary  of  an 
extreme  kind.  You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  giving  your 
adherence  to  any  sentiment  of  his.  You  might  just  as 
well  propose  to  cut  off  the  king's  head." 

"  I  don't  quite  see  why  I'm  bound  to  believe  in  your 
infallibility  because  I  happen  to  be  a  Conservative.  All 
I  suggested  was  that  you  might  possibly  be  mistaken." 

"  In  putting  your  suggestion  in  the  way  you  did,"  said 
Meldon,  "  you  proclaimed  yourself  a  disciple  and  ad- 
mirer of  Oliver  Cromwell.  I've  no  particular  objection 
to  that.  I'm  not  a  prejudiced  man  in  political  matters, 
and  Cromwell  is  a  long  time  dead.  If  you  choose  to  pro- 
claim yourself  a  regicide,  I  shan't  quarrel  with  you.  All 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  213 

I  want  you  to  understand  is  that  you  can't  have  it  both 
ways.  No  man  can  quote  Oliver  Cromwell  with  ap- 
proval and  still  go  on  calling  himself  a  loyalist." 

"  All  the  same,  you  may  be  mistaken  about  Miss  King." 

"  I  may,"  said  Meldon ;  "  any  man  may  be  mistaken, 

unless  he  happens  to  be  a  Pope,  who  of  course  never  is, 

ex  officio;  but  as  a  matter  of  fact  I  very  seldom  am,  and 

in  this  particular  case  I'm  demonstrably  right." 

"  Well,  don't  air  your  theory  to  the  judge ;  that's  all 
I  care  about." 

"  Not  being  a  perfect  fool,  I  won't.  I  have  a  con- 
siderable natural  talent  for  diplomacy,  as  I  daresay 
you've  observed,  and  I'm  not  the  least  likely  to  start  off 
by  putting  up  that  judge's  back.  My  game  is  to  pacify 
and  soothe  him  in  such  a  way  that  he  will  become  our 
active  ally." 

"  You'll  find  that  difficult  after  the  paraffin  oil." 
"  If  necessary,"  said  Meldon,  "  I  shall  apologise  for 
the  paraffin,  but  I  scarcely  expect  it  will  be  necessary. 
The  judge  is  a  sensible  man.  He  knows  that  we  have 
to  take  the  rough  with  the  smooth  in  life.  He'll  regard 
that  as  a  mere  incident,  a  more  or  less  humorous  inci- 
dent." 

"  He'll  be  a  queer  sort  of  man  if  he  does." 
"  And  now,"  said  Meldon,  "  I  must  be  off.  It's  nearly 
ten  o'clock,  thanks  to  your  lazy  habit  of  not  breakfasting 
till  after  nine.  Fortunately,  I've  still  got  Doyle's  bicycle. 
Not  that  it's  at  all  a  dependable  machine.  The  pedal  will 
probably  come  off  once  at  least  on  my  way  in.  How- 
ever, at  worst,  I'll  be  there  by  eleven." 

The  pedal  on  this  occasion  held  to  its  place,  and  Mel- 
don reached  Ballymoy  House  at  a  quarter  to  eleven. 
The  door  was  opened  to  him  by  Miss  King,  who  had  seen 


214  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

him  coming  up  the  avenue.  She  greeted  him  with  a 
smile,  and,  in  reply  to  his  enquiry,  told  him  that  the 
judge  had  gone  up  the  river. 

"  I  promised,"  said  Miss  King,  "  to  send  him  word  if 
you  called.  I  think  he  wants  to  see  you.  Won't  you 
come  in?  I'll  send  Callaghan  to  look  for  him." 

"Thanks,"  said  Meldon.  "I  think  I'll  go  and  look 
for  him  myself.  I  should  rather  like  the  walk,  and  I 
might  be  some  use  to  him  in  showing  him  the  pools.  I 
used  to  fish  this  river  a  good  deal  myself  at  one  time. 
By  the  way,  did  he  say  what  he  wants  to  see  me  about  ?  " 

"  He  didn't  go  into  details,"  said  Miss  King,  "  but  I 
rather  think  he  wants  to  ask  you  some  questions  about — " 

"  Did  he  mention  the  subject  of  paraffin  oil?" 

Miss  King  smiled. 

"  I'm  sorry  that's  weighing  on  his  mind,"  said  Meldon. 
"  I  thought  he  might  have  got  over  it  by  this  time. 
However,  it  won't  take  long  to  explain  it.  I  won't  say 
good-bye,  Miss  King.  I  shall  probably  see  you  again 
this  afternoon." 

"  Won't  you  come  back  for  luncheon  ?  It  will  be 
ready  at  half-past  one." 

"  No,  thanks.  I  can't.  The  fact  is  I'm  thinking  of 
dropping  in  on  Mr.  Simpkins  about  that  time.  He  may 
be  coming  up  here  with  me  in  the  afternoon.  He  has 
something  he  wants  to  say  to  you." 

"About  the  fishing?" 

"  No.  The  fact  is — but  I'd  better  let  the  poor  fellow 
explain  himself.  I'll  run  off  now  and  hunt  about  for 
Sir  Gilbert.  If  he's  had  any  luck  at  all  this  morning 
he'll  have  forgotten  about  the  paraffin  oil  before  I  get 
to  him.  Good-morning,  Miss  King.  Don't  believe  all 
the  Major  says  about  Mr.  Simpkins.  There's  no  one  I 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  215 

know  who's  fairer-minded  in  a  general  way  than  the 
Major.  But  in  the  case  of  Mr.  Simpkins  he's  regularly 
warped,  and  you  ought  not  to  take  any  notice  of  what 
he  may  have  said." 

Sir  Gilbert  Hawkesby  was  up  to  his  knees  in  the  river 
when  Meldon  came  upon  him.  He  was  throwing  a  fly 
over  a  most  likely  pool  and  had  already  been  rewarded 
by  a  rise.  On  the  bank  lay  a  remarkably  fine  salmon, 
at  least  twenty  pounds  in  weight,  which  he  had  caught. 
He  was  in  a  very  cheerful  mood,  and  felt  kindly  towards 
every  one  in  the  world. 

"  Don't  let  me  interrupt  you,"  said  Meldon.  "  You're 
at  one  of  the  best  spots  on  the  whole  river.  I'll  sit  down 
here  and  wait  till  you've  finished." 

But  the  judge,  though  a  very  keen  fisherman,  was  evi- 
dently more  eager  to  talk  to  Meldon  than  to  catch  an- 
other salmon.  He  waded  ashore  at  once  and  laid  down 
his  rod. 

"  I'm  very  glad  to  meet  you,  Mr.  Meldon,"  he  said. 
"  There  are  one  or  two  questions  I'd  like  to  ask 
you." 

"  I  thought  there  very  likely  were,"  said  Meldon,  "  and 
I  need  scarcely  say  that  I'm  perfectly  ready  to  answer 
them,  so  far  as  I  can  with  proper  consideration  for  your 
peace  of  mind." 

"  My  peace  of  mind !  " 

"  Yes.  I  shan't,  of  course,  say  anything  which  would 
be  liable  to  upset  you.  I  know  you're  here  on  a  holiday, 
and  nothing  spoils  a  holiday  so  much  as  worry  of  any 
sort.  I  have  the  greatest  respect  and  liking  for  you." 

"  That's  what  you  said  when  you  were  telling  me  that 
cock-and-bull  story  about  the  drains." 

"  Doyle's  drains  are  bad,"  said  Meldon.     "  I  hardly 


216  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

exaggerated  at  all  about  that.  You  ask  Simpkins.  He 
wanted —  By  the  way,  have  you  met  Simpkins  yet?  " 

"  No ;  I  haven't.  But  it  isn't  about  Simpkins  I  want 
to  talk  now." 

"  That's  a  pity.  I  enjoy  talking  about  Simpkins.  He's 
not  a  bad  fellow  at  all,  though  the  Major  doesn't  care 
for  him.  But  I  expect  you'll  meet  him  this  afternoon." 

"  Thanks,"  said  the  judge.  "  I  shall  be  glad  of  the 
chance  of  forming  my  own  estimate  of  Simpkins'  char- 
acter. I  am  sure  it  will  agree  with  yours.  But  to  get 
back  to  what  I  was  saying  about  the  drains.  Would  you 
mind  telling  me  why  you  went  all  the  way  to  Donard  to 
warn  me  about  the  drains  ?  " 

"  To  be  perfectly  frank — by  the  way,  do  you  want  me 
to  be  perfectly  frank  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  Even  at  the  expense  of  my  peace  of 
mind." 

"  I  don't  think  what  I'm  going  to  say  now  will  affect 
your  peace  of  mind.  The  fact  is,  I  thought  at  that  time 
it  would  be  better  for  you  not  to  come  to  Ballymoy.  I 
hope  you  don't  mind  my  saying  so.  I  need  scarcely  tell 
you  that  it  wasn't  a  personal  matter.  There's  nothing  I 
should  enjoy  more  than  having  you  here  permanently." 

"  I  suppose  that  the  Condy's  Fluid  and  the  paraffin  oil 
were—?" 

"  Means  to  the  same  end,"  said  Meldon.  "  They  were 
kindly  meant.  If  they  caused  you  any  serious  incon- 
venience— " 

"  They  did." 

"Then  I  apologise,  frankly  and  unreservedly.  The 
fact  is,  I  acted  under  a  complete  misapprehension.  If 
I  had  known  then  what  I  know  now  I  should  have  wel- 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  217 

corned  you,  and  done  my  best  to  make  your  stay  here 
pleasant.  That's  what  I  intend  to  do  now ;  so  if  any  one 
annoys  you  in  the  slightest  just  let  me  know,  and  I'll  put 
a  stop  to  the  performance  at  once." 

"  Thanks ;  and  now  perhaps,  as  we've  gone  so  far, 
you'll  satisfy  my  curiosity  a  little  further  by  explaining 
why  you  object  to  my  presence  here." 

"  I  don't  object  to  it  in  the  least.  I  did  once,  as  I 
said;  but  I  don't  now." 

"  What  has  happened  to  change  your  views  ?  " 

"  Now  that  is  a  question  I  can  hardly  answer  without 
going  into  some  very  private  and  delicate  matters  which 
I  am  sure  you  would  not  care  to  discuss.  It  wouldn't 
be  pleasant  for  you  if  I  talked  about  them.  You'd  be 
sorry  afterwards." 

"  Would  my  peace  of  mind  be  affected  ?  " 

"  Seriously.  That's  the  reason  I  won't  go  into  the 
matter." 

"  All  the  same,"  said  the  judge,  "  I  think  I'll  hazard 
a  guess  about  it.  Are  these  mysterious  affairs  you  allude 
to  in  any  way  connected  with  Miss  King?" 

"  I  see,"  said  Meldon,  "  that  you've  been  talking  it 
all  over  with  her,  and  that  she's  given  you  a  hint,  so  I 
need  say  no  more." 

"  Miss  King's  only  idea,"  said  the  judge,  "  is  that  you 
think  I'm  likely  to  make  myself  objectionable  in  some 
way  about  the  fishing.  It  appears  that  there  has  been 
a  dispute — " 

"  That  miserable  business  between  Simpkins  and  the 
Major.  I  know  all  about  that,  and  I  may  say  at  once 
that  it  had  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  my  attempt  to 
keep  you  out  of  Ballymoy." 


218  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  I  thought  not.  I  merely  mentioned  it  to  show  you 
that  my  niece  is  quite  in  the  dark  about  your  real  rea- 
son, and  that  I  got  no  hint  from  her." 

"  She  may  not  be  quite  as  much  in  the  dark,"  said 
Meldon,  "  as  she  pretends  when  she's  talking  to  you. 
The  subject  would  naturally  be  an  awkward  one  for  her 
to  discuss.  It's  awkward  enough  for  us.  I  think  we'd 
better  drop  it  at  once." 

"  I  suppose,"  said  the  judge  boldly,  "  that  your  friend 
thought  he'd  have  a  better  chance  if  I  were  not  here 
to  interfere  with  him." 

"  I  don't  like  that  way  of  putting  the  case,"  said  Mel- 
don. "  Why  not  say  that  Miss  King  would  have  had  a 
better  chance  ?  " 

"  Considering  that  Miss  King  is  my  niece,"  said  the 
judge,  "  you  will  understand  that  I  rather  object  to  your 
way  of  putting  it.  It's  scarcely  respectful  to  her. 
Whatever  the  facts  may  be  in  any  particular  case,  there's 
a  well-established  convention  in  these  matters.  We 
don't,  any  of  us,  talk  as  if  it  were  the  lady  who  is,  so  to 
speak,  the  aggressor." 

"  I  see  your  point,  though  in  this  particular  case  I 
can't  help  feeling —  But  why  should  we  go  on?  It's 
far  better  to  drop  the  subject." 

"  But  I  don't  see  yet  why  you  first  of  all  wanted  to 
keep  me  out  of  Ballymoy,  and  then  suddenly  changed 
your  mind.  What  happened  in  the  interval  ?  " 

"  If  you're  quite  determined  to  thrash  the  matter  out," 
said  Meldon,  "  the  best  way  will  be  to  get  at  the  main 
point  at  once.  Everything  will  come  easier  to  us  after 
we  have  that  settled.  Have  you  any  objection  to  our 
proposal  ?  " 

"What  proposal?" 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  219 

"  Come  now.  I  know  that  it's  quite  the  correct  thing 
for  judges  to  ask  ridiculous  and  silly  questions,  affecting 
not  to  know  what  everybody  in  the  world  knows  quite 
well.  There  was  one  the  other  day — I  don't  think  it 
was  you — who  inquired  quite  solemnly  what  a  '  bike ' 
was;  and  I  recollect  another — it  was  in  a  horse-racing 
case — who  pretended  not  to  know  the  meaning  of  the 
phrase  'two  to  one  on.'  I  don't  profess  to  understand 
why  you  all  do  that  kind  of  thing,  but  I'm  willing  to 
suppose  that  there's  some  good  reason  for  it.  I  daresay 
it's  what's  called  a  legal  fiction,  and  is  an  essential  part 
of  the  machinery  by  which  justice  is  administered.  If 
so,  it's  all  right  in  its  proper  place ;  but  what  on  earth  is 
the  good  of  keeping  it  up  out  of  court  ?  Sitting  here  on 
the  bank  of  a  west  of  Ireland  river,  with  a  large  salmon 
lying  dead  at  our  feet,  it  really  is  rather  absurd  to  ask 
me  what  proposal." 

"  I  merely  wanted,"  said  the  judge,  "  to  make  quite 
sure—" 

"  You  were  quite  sure.  You  couldn't  have  had  the 
slightest  doubt  in  your  mind.  You  yourself  began  the 
discussion  about  Miss  King's  chances  of  marrying — " 

"  I  said  your  friend's  chances  of  marrying  Miss  King." 

"  It  doesn't  in  the  least  matter  which  you  said.  The 
point  just  now  is  that  you  knew  perfectly  well  what  I 
meant  when  I  spoke  of  the  proposal  at  present  under 
discussion." 

"  Has  he  proposed  yet  ?  " 

"  No,  but  he  will  this  afternoon ;  and  what  I  want  to 
get  at  is  whether  you're  going  to  put  a  stop  to  the  mar- 
riage or  not." 

"  I,  really —  Miss  King  is,  I  think,  quite  able  to  man- 
age her  own  affairs;  and  I  shouldn't  in  any  case  care  to 


220  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

interfere,  beyond  offering  advice  in  case  your  friend 
should  turn  out  to  be  an  obviously  unsuitable  person." 

"  That's  all  right.  I  can't  expect  you  to  say  more  than 
that.  I  knew  all  along  that  you  didn't  want  to  have  the 
thing  put  to  you  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet.  You'll 
recollect  that  I  had  no  wish  to  force  it  on  you." 

"  You  mustn't  suppose,"  said  the  judge,  "  that  I'm  in 
any  way  committed  to  a  definite  support — " 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Meldon.  "  A  man  in  your  po- 
sition couldn't.  I  thoroughly  understand  that.  And  I 
hope  you  don't  think  that  I've  been  in  any  way  dis- 
respectful to  you.  I  didn't  mean  to  be.  I  have  the 
highest  possible  regard  for  all  judges,  and  what  I  said 
just  now  about  legal  fictions  was  simply  meant  to  avoid 
prolonging  a  discussion  which  can't  have  been  pleasant 
for  you.  And  after  all,  you  know,  it  was  rather  absurd 
your  trying  to  come  the  judge  over  me,  considering  what 
we  were  talking  about.  You  wouldn't  have  done  it,  I'm 
sure,  if  you'd  stopped  for  a  moment  to  consider  the  pe- 
culiar and  rather  delicate  circumstances  under  which 
we  are  carrying  on  this  negotiation.  I  expect  the  habit 
of  talking  in  that  judicial  way  was  too  strong  for  you. 
You  forgot  for  the  moment  what  it  was  we  were  speak- 
ing about,  and  thought  it  was  some  ordinary  law  case. 
The  force  of  habit  is  a  wonderful  thing.  Have  you  ever 
noticed — " 

"  So  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  discover  up  to  the 
present,"  said  the  judge,  "you  are  greatly  interested  in 
bringing  about  a  marriage  between  your  friend  and  my 
niece." 

"  Interested  is  a  dubious  sort  of  word  to  use,  and  I 
don't  like  it.  Let  us  be  quite  clear  about  what  we 
mean.  In  one  sense  I  am  interested;  in  another  sense 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  221 

I  am  entirely  disinterested — which  is  the  exact  opposite. 
You  catch  my  point,  don't  you?  It  is  a  very  instructive 
thing  to  reflect  on  the  curious  ambiguity  of  words.  But 
I  am  sure  you  can  tell  me  more  about  that  than  I  can 
possibly  tell  you.  With  your  legal  experience  you  must 
have  come  across  scores  of  instances  of  the  extraordi- 
narily deceptive  nature  of  words." 

"  You  thought  apparently  that  I  should  be  likely  to 
object  to  the  marriage,  and  therefore  you  tried  to  keep 
me  out  of  Ballymoy,  using  means  which  might  be  de- 
scribed as  unscrupulous." 

"  I've  already  apologised  for  the  paraffin  oil,"  said 
Meldon.  "  A  full  and  ample  apology,  such  as  I  have 
offered,  is  generally  considered  to  close  an  incident  of 
that  kind.  In  the  old  duelling  days,  when  men  used  to 
go  out  at  early  dawn  to  shoot  at  each  other  with  pistols, 
the  one  who  had  shied  the  wine  glass  at  the  other  the 
night  before  often  used  to  apologise;  and  when  he  did 
the  pistols  were  put  up  into  their  case,  and  both  parties 
went  back  comfortably  to  breakfast.  I've  often  won- 
dered that  men  of  your  profession — judges,  I  mean — 
didn't  do  something  effective  to  put  a  stop  to  duelling. 
It  was  always  against  the  law,  and  yet  we  had  to  wait 
for  the  slow  growth  of  public  opinion — " 

"  Then,"  said  the  judge,  "  you  changed  your  mind, 
and  came  to  the  conclusion  that  my  presence  here  wasn't 
likely  to  interfere  with  your  friend's  plans.  Now  will 
you  tell  me  why — " 

"  I've  made  three  distinct  and  separate  efforts,"  said 
Meldon,  "  to  change  the  subject  of  conversation.  I  tried 
to  start  you  off  on  habits,  a  subject  on  which  almost 
every  man  living  can  talk  more  or  less.  I  thought  you'd 
have  taken  that  opportunity  of  telling  the  story  about  the 


222  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

horse  which  always  stopped  at  the  door  of  a  certain 
public  house,  even  after  the  temperance  reformer  had 
bought  him.  I'm  sure  you'd  have  liked  to  tell  that  story. 
Everybody  does." 

"  I  don't." 

"  So  it  appears.  You're  an  exceptional  man.  Recog- 
nising that,  I  started  the  subject  of  words,  which  is  more 
philosophical.  You  might  quite  easily  have  got  off  on 
the  degradation  of  the  English  language  owing  to  the 
spread  of  slang.  Then  we  could  have  spent  an  agree- 
able half-hour." 

"  But  I  didn't  want  to  talk  about  words.    I — " 

"  I  saw  that ;  so  I  gave  you  another  chance.  Starting 
on  the  annals  of  your  profession,  I  proposed  a  question 
to  you  which  ought  to  have  aroused  in  you  a  desire  to 
defend  the  public  utility  of  the  great  legal  luminaries  of 
the  past.  I  practically  denied  that  judges  are  any  good 
at  all.  Instead  of  showing  me,  as  you  very  easily  might 
have,  that  it  was  the  judges  who  created  the  public  opin- 
ion which  put  a  stop  to  duelling,  and  not  public  opinion 
which  goaded  the  judges  on  to  hang  the  duellists,  you — 

"  I  wanted  to  know,  and  I  still  want  to  know,  why  you 
changed  your  mind." 

"  If  you  can't  think  that  out  for  yourself,"  said  Mel- 
don,  "  I'm  not  going  to  do  it  for  you.  A  man  like  you 
ought  to  be  able  to  follow  a  perfectly  simple  line  of 
thought  like  that.  If  you  can't  see  the  plain  and  obvious 
mental  process  which  led  to  my  change  of  opinion,  I 
don't  see  how  you  can  expect  to  track  the  obscure  work- 
ings of  the  criminal  mind.  The  criminal,  as  of  course 
you  know,  is  always  more  or  less  demented,  and  conse- 
quently doesn't  reason  in  the  obvious  and  straightfor- 
ward way  in  which  I  do.  His  mentality — " 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  223 

"  I  suppose  you're  changing  the  conversation  again," 
said  the  judge. 

"  I'm  trying  to ;  but  it  doesn't  seem  to  be  much  use." 

"  I'll  talk  to  you  on  any  subject  you  choose  to  select 
with  pleasure,"  said  the  judge,  "  if  you'll  tell  me  what 
it  was  that  led  to  your  change  of  mind  about  my  prob- 
able action  in  this  matter  of  your  friend's  proposal  to 
marry  my  niece." 

"  There's  just  one  fact  which  I  haven't  mentioned. 
You  ought  to  have;  you  perfectly  well  might  have 
guessed  it.  But  as  you  haven't,  I'll  tell  it  to  you.  When 
I  first  heard  of  your  coming  to  Ballymoy,  I  didn't  know 
that  you  were  Miss  King's  uncle.  I  only  found  that  out 
yesterday." 

"  That  makes  things  worse  than  ever,"  said  the  judge. 
"  I  was  beginning  dimly  to  understand  some  of  your 
actions  before  you  told  me  that.  Now  I'm  utterly  and 
completely  at  sea.  Why  you  should  have  tried  to  stop 
me  coming  to  Ballymoy  if  you  didn't  know  I  was  Miss 
King's  uncle  is  beyond  me  altogether." 

"  I  really  can't  go  into  that,"  said  Meldon.  "  You 
must  understand  it  perfectly  well,  and  in  any  case  I'm 
bound  to  respect  Miss  King's  confidence.  I  can't  pos- 
sibly repeat  to  you  things  she  has  said  to  me  in  a  strictly 
private  way." 

"  Of  course  if  my  niece — but  that  puzzles  me  even 
more.  She  hasn't  said  a  word  to  me  about  any  private 
understanding  with  you." 

"  She  wouldn't,"  said  Meldon,  "  and  I  daresay  I  ought 
not  to  have  mentioned  that  such  a  thing  exists.  How- 
ever, in  the  end,  of  course,  you'll  know  all  about  it." 

"In  the  end?" 

"  Yes.    After  the  marriage.     Shortly  after." 


224  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  If  she  really  is  to  be  married,"  said  the  judge,  "  I 
wish  she'd  hurry  up  about  it.  I  hate  these  mysteries." 

"  You  can't  hate  them  more  than  I  do,"  said  Meldon, 
"  and  you  can  rely  upon  me  to  bring  things  to  their  crisis, 
their  preliminary  crisis — the  actual  marriage  can't  take 
place  for  a  fortnight — as  soon  as  possible." 

"  Do.  By  the  preliminary  crisis  I  suppose  you  mean 
the  engagement." 

"  Certainly.  I  shall  use  every  effort  to  bring  that  off 
this  afternoon.  Now  that  I  know  you're  as  keen  on  it 
as  I  am  myself,  I  think  I  may  pledge  you  my  word  that 
it  will  come  off  this  afternoon.  But,  if  so,  I  must  leave 
you  now.  Good-bye." 


IT  was  nearly  twelve  o'clock  when  Meldon  left  Sir 
Gilbert  Hawkesby.  He  walked  rapidly  down  to 
Ballymoy  House,  and  seized  his  bicycle.  Miss  King, 
who  had  been  watching  for  him,  ran  out  and  invited  him 
to  stay  for  luncheon.  Meldon  excused  himself  briefly 
on  the  plea  of  really  urgent  business. 

"But  can't  you  spare  us  even  an  hour?"  said  Miss 
King  persuasively. 

Meldon  sprang  into  the  saddle.  It  was  his  custom 
to  mount  from  the  pedal,  and  on  this  occasion  the  pedal 
came  off. 

"  Now,"  said  Miss  King,  "  your  bicycle  is  broken  and 
you  must  stay." 

"  It's  Doyle's  bicycle,"  he  said.  "  I  wouldn't  own  a 
machine  like  this.  My  temper  would  wear  thin  in  a 
week  if  I  did." 

He  turned  the  bicycle  upside  down,  and  set  to  work 
vigorously  with  a  wrench. 

"  If,"  said  Meldon,  "  my  business  were  my  own — that's 
to  say,  if  I  were  acting  in  my  private  capacity  for  my 
own  interests — I  should  let  the  whole  thing  slide  at 
once."  He  screwed  hard  at  a  nut  as  he  spoke.  "  But 
what  I  have  to  do  concerns  the  whole  community  here. 
It  is  also  of  the  greatest  importance  to  you,  Miss  King." 

"Tome?." 

223 


226  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  And  my  action  has,  I  may  add,  the  warmest  ap- 
proval of  the  judge.  There!  Thank  goodness,  that 
wretched  thing  is  stuck  on  again.  Good-bye  for  the 
present,  Miss  King." 

"  But —  Oh,  do  wait  for  a  moment !  You  really 
must  explain — " 

Meldon  mounted  and  rode  away  while  she  spoke. 
Just  before  he  disappeared  from  view,  he  turned  his 
head  and  shouted  back, — 

"  You'll  know  all  about  it  this  afternoon,  Miss  King." 

He  rode  rapidly  down  to  the  village,  and  dismounted 
at  the  door  of  Simpkins'  office.  It  was  shut.  Meldon 
knocked  loudly  several  times,  but  received  no  answer. 
He  mounted  his  bicycle  again  and  rode  off  at  high  speed 
to  Simpkins'  house.  Here  the  door  was  opened  to  him 
by  the  red-haired  servant. 

"  I  want  to  see  Mr.  Simpkins  at  once,"  said  Meldon. 

"  It'll  fail  you  to  do  that,"  said  the  girl,  "  for  he  isn't 
within." 

"Tell  me  this,  now,"  said  Meldon.  "Aren't  you  a 
cousin  of  Sabina  Gallagher's?" 

"  I  am,  of  course." 

"  Very  well.  I'm  a  friend  of  Sabina's.  I'm  the  chief, 
if  not  the  only  friend  Sabina  has  in  Ballymoy.  I  dare- 
say she's  told  you  that  herself." 

"  She  has  not  then ;  for  I  didn't  see  her  this  last  week 
only  the  once." 

"  Well,  you  must  take  my  word  for  it  that  I  am.  Now, 
recollecting  that  fact,  I  expect  you  to  show  a  proper 
family  feeling  and  to  treat  the  friends  of  your  near  rela- 
tions as  if  they  were  your  own.  Is  Air.  Simpkins  really 
out,  or  is  he  simply  in  bed  and  ashamed  to  confess  it  ?  " 

"  He  is  not  in  bed.     Nor  he  wasn't  in  it  since  nine 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  227 

o'clock  this  morning.  It's  away  off  he  is  ever  since  he 
had  his  breakfast;  and  if  you  don't  believe  what  I'm 
telling  you,  you  can  go  upstairs  and  see  for  yourself." 

"  I  do  believe  you,"  said  Meldon.  "  Where  has  he 
gone  to  ?  " 

"  How  would  I  know  ?  Barring  that  he  took  a  packet 
of  sandwiches  with  him,  I  don't  know  where  he  is  no 
more  than  yourself." 

"  Sandwiches !  That  looks  as  if  he  won't  be  back  for 
luncheon." 

"  He  will  not  then,  for  he  told  me  so." 

"  Did  he  go  on  his  bicycle  ?  " 

"  It  could  be  that  he  did,  for  it's  not  within  in  the 
house." 

"  Then  we  may  assume  that  he  did,"  said  Meldon, 
"  and  it  follows  from  that  that  he  intended  to  go  some 
distance.  Now  tell  me  this,  what  direction  did  he  start 
in?" 

"  How  would  I  know  ?  As  soon  as  ever  I  had  the 
sandwiches  made  for  him  I  went  to  feed  the  fowl,  and 
by  reason  of  the  way  the  white  hen  has  of  rambling  and 
her  chickens  along  with  her — " 

"Thanks,"  said  Meldon.  "If  it  wasn't  that  I  have 
to  find  Mr.  Simpkins  at  once,  I'd  stay  and  hear  about  the 
white  hen.  But  under  the  circumstances  I  can't.  Good- 
bye." 

He  rode  down  to  the  hotel  and  found  Doyle,  who  was 
sitting  on  the  window-sill  of  the  commercial  room  read- 
ing a  newspaper. 

"  Doyle,"  he  said,  "  where's  Simpkins  gone  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Doyle,  "  that  he's  gone  any- 
where ;  though  I'd  be  glad  if  he  did,  and  that  to  a  good, 
far-off  kind  of  a  place." 


228  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"Did  you  see  him  this  morning?" 

"  I  did.  I  seen  him.  It  might  have  been  half-past 
ten  or  maybe  eleven  o'clock — " 

"On  his  bicycle?" 

"  He  was  on  his  bicycle." 

"  Where  was  he  going  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  where  he  was  going,  for  I  didn't  ask, 
not  caring;  unless  it  might  be  to  some  place  that  he 
wouldn't  get  back  from  too  easy." 

"  It  is  of  the  utmost  possible  importance,"  said  Mel- 
don,  "  that  I  should  know  where  he's  gone.  I  am 
pledged  to  produce  him  at  Ballymoy  House  this  after- 
noon. Unless  I  do,  our  whole  plan  for  getting  rid  of 
him  is  likely  to  miscarry." 

"  I'm  sorry  to  hear  that,"  said  Doyle.  "  But  I  couldn't 
tell  you  where  he  went,  not  if  it  was  to  have  him  hanged 
when  you  caught  him." 

"  I  am  not  going  to  have  him  hanged,"  said  Meldon. 
"  I  can't ;  for  he  hasn't  done  anything,  so  far  as  I  know, 
that  any  court  would  condemn  him  for.  What  I  want 
is  to  get  him  married." 

"Married,  is  it?" 

"  Yes,  to  Miss  King." 

"  But —  What  you  said  at  the  first  go-off,  the  day 
you  was  within  talking  to  me  and  the  doctor,  was  that 
you'd—" 

"  I  can't  possibly  enter  into  a  long  explanation  now," 
said  Meldon ;  "  but  if  you  want  to  get  rid  of  Simpkins 
permanently,  you'll  rack  your  brains  and  help  me  to  find 
out  where  he's  gone  to-day." 

Doyle  thought  deeply  for  a  couple  of  minutes. 

"  Where  he's  gone,"  he  said  at  last,  "  is  beyond  me. 
But  I  took  notice  of  the  trousers  he  had  on  him  when 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  229 

he  was  starting.  I'm  not  sure  will  it  be  any  use  to  you 
to  know  it,  but  they  was  white." 

"  Good,"  said  Meldon.  "  As  it  happens,  that  fact  does 
throw  a  great  deal  of  light  on  the  problem.  No  man 
wears  white  trousers  unless  he's  going  boating  on  a  fine 
day,  or  going  to  play  cricket,  or  going  to  play  lawn  tennis. 
We  may  cross  off  the  boating  at  once.  Simpkins 
wouldn't  go  in  a  boat  voluntarily,  even  on  the  finest  day. 
We  may  also  exclude  cricket;  because  there's  no  cricket 
within  fifty  miles  of  Ballymoy  in  any  direction.  There 
only  remains  tennis ;  so  we  may  take  it  as  certain  that  it 
is  lawn  tennis  which  Simpkins  has  gone  to  play.  You 
follow  me  so  far,  I  suppose,  Doyle." 

"  It  might  be  what  they  call  golf." 

"  No,  it  couldn't.  You  don't  understand  these  things, 
Doyle ;  but,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  no  one  plays  golf  in  white 
trousers.  It  wouldn't  be  considered  proper,  and  so 
we  may  be  perfectly  certain  that  Simpkins  wouldn't  do 
it." 

"  I  wouldn't  say,"  said  Doyle,  "  that  you're  much 
nearer  knowing  where  he's  gone  to." 

"  Not  much,  but  I  am  a  little.  I  happen  to  know — Sa- 
bina's  red-haired  cousin  told  me — that  he  has  taken  a 
packet  of  sandwiches  with  him  and  doesn't  expect  to  be 
home  till  late.  It  follows  from  that  that  he's  not  play- 
ing tennis  in  this  immediate  neighbourhood.  It  also  fol- 
lows that  he  isn't  going  to  any  friend's  house.  Nobody 
ever  brings  sandwiches  to  a  private  tennis  party.  There- 
fore Simpkins  must  have  gone  to  play  at  some  sort  of 
club." 

"  Unless  it  would  be  at  Donard,"  said  Doyle,  "  I  don't 
know  where  there'd  be  a  thing  of  the  kind." 

"Right,"  said  Meldon.    "And,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 


230  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

there  is  a  club  at  Donard.  I  know  that,  because  I  was 
once  invited  to  play  there  in  a  tournament.  I  think  we 
may  feel  tolerably  certain  that  Simpkins  is  there.  Let 
me  see  now.  It's  not  quite  one  o'clock.  If  I  ride  fast — 
I'll  borrow  the  doctor's  bicycle.  I  can't  stand  this  loose 
pedal  of  yours  any  more.  If  I  ride  fast  I'll  be  there  by 
half-past  two.  Say  twenty  minutes  to  three.  Allowing 
for  twenty  minutes  in  which  to  persuade  Simpkins  to 
start  home  at  once,  I  ought  to  be  on  my  way  back  by 
three.  I'll  hustle  him  along  a  bit,  and  there's  no  reason 
that  I  can  see  why  he  shouldn't  be  at  Ballymoy  House 
by  half-past  five." 

"  You'll  never  do  all  that,"  said  Doyle.  "  Is  it  likely 
he'll  go  with  you?" 

"  It's  not  exactly  likely,  but  he  will.  I  shall  speak  to 
him  in  such  a  way  that  he  practically  must.  Get  me  the 
doctor's  bicycle  at  once." 

"  If  it's  that  you  want,"  said  Doyle,  "  you  haven't  far 
to  go  to  look  for  it.  It's  within  in  the  hall  this  minute, 
for  he  left  it  here  last  night,  saying  he'd  be  round  for  it 
this  morning." 

"  Good.     I'll  take  it  at  once  and  be  off." 

The  grounds  of  the  Donard  tennis  club  are  pleasantly 
situated  about  a  mile  outside  the  town  on  the  Ballymoy 
road.  Meldon  reached  them  well  before  the  time  he 
had  arranged,  passing  through  the  gate  at  a  quarter  past 
two  o'clock.  The  annual  tennis  tournament  was  in  full 
swing.  All  three  courts  were  occupied  by  players,  and 
an  eager  crowd  of  spectators  stood  round  watching  the 
progress  of  the  matches.  Simpkins  was  perched  on  top 
of  a  step  ladder,  acting  as  umpire  for  two  ladies.  His 
position  rendered  him  very  conspicuous,  and  Meldon 
caught  sight  of  him  at  once.  He  took  a  short  cut 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  231 

through  a  court  where  a  mixed  double  was  in  progress 
and  seized  Simpkins  by  the  leg. 

"  Simpkins,"  he  said,  "  get  off  that  ladder  at  once." 

Simpkins  was  surprised.  So  were  the  two  ladies  who 
were  playing  tennis.  They  stopped  their  game  and 
stared  at  Meldon.  Then  they  glanced  at  Simpkins  with 
puzzled  suspicion.  Men,  as  every  one  is  aware,  even 
men  with  reputations  for  respectability,  are  sometimes 
arrested  suddenly  in  the  most  unlikely  places  for  crimes 
of  which  no  one  ever  suspected  them.  It  is  true  that 
they  are  very  rarely  arrested  by  clergymen,  but  it  is  on 
record  of  the  most  famous  of  all  detectives  that  he  once 
assumed  the  dress  of  a  clergyman  as  a  disguise.  The 
lady  who  was  serving  when  Meldon  interrupted  the  game 
had  read  the  history  of  that  detective's  life.  She  looked 
at  Simpkins  with  awed  horror.  Simpkins  wriggled  un- 
comfortably on  his  ladder.  He  was  conscious  of  being 
placed  in  a  very  unpleasant  position,  and  was  anxious,  if 
possible,  to  divert  the  attention  of  the  ladies. 

"  Forty-fifteen,"  he  said  loudly,  but  erroneously,  for 
the  score  was  thirty  all.  Then  he  turned  to  Meldon  and 
added  in  a  whisper :  "  Go  away  at  once,  please." 

He  hoped  that  the  ladies  would  go  on  with  their  game. 
They  did  not.  He  had  given  their  score  wrongly,  and 
they  became  more  suspicious  than  ever.  Nor  did  Mel- 
don stir. 

"  Come  down  off  that  ladder  at  once,"  said  Meldon. 
"  I  don't  want  to  make  a  very  unpleasant  affair  public 
property;  but  if  you  don't  come  down,  I'll  speak  out, 
and  there's  a  small  crowd  gathering  round  us." 

This  was  true.  The  lady  who  had  been  serving 
dropped  the  two  balls  she  held  in  her  hand  and  sidled 
up  towards  the  step  ladder.  A  number  of  people,  who 


J232  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

had  been  watching  an  exciting  match  in  the  next  court, 
left  it,  and  approached  Meldon  to  find  out  what  was 
going  on.  Simpkins'  conscience  was  quite  at  ease.  He 
had  done  nothing  wrong.  He  was  not,  as  far  as  he  was 
aware,  mixed  up  in  anything  unpleasant.  His  innocence, 
though  it  did  not  make  him  feel  comfortable,  gave  him 
courage  to  attempt  an  argument  with  Meldon. 

"  Why  should  I  come  down  ?  "  he  said.  "  I'm  um- 
piring in  this  match,  and  I  see  no  reason  for  leaving  it  in 
the  middle." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Meldon.  "  If  you  choose  to  take 
up  that  sort  of  attitude  you'll  only  have  yourself  to  thank 
for  the  unpleasantness  which  will  follow.  Still,  I've 
always  had  a  regard  for  you,  although  you're  not  what 
I'd  call  popular  with  the  people  of  Ballymoy,  so  I  won't 
say  more  than  I  can  help  at  first.  Have  you  forgotten 
Miss  King?" 

"  No,"  said  Simpkins,  "  I  haven't.  Why  should  I?  I 
mean  to  say,  there's  nothing  particular  for  me  to  re- 
member about  Miss  King." 

The  secretary  of  the  tennis  club  pushed  his  way 
through  the  crowd.  He  was  in  an  excited  and  irritated 
condition.  Every  single  competitor  had  complained  that 
the  handicapping  was  disgracefully  done.  Some  were 
angry  because  their  skill  was  reckoned  too  cheaply; 
others  thought  that  their  chances  of  winning  were  un- 
duly prejudiced.  They  had  all  expressed  their  opinions 
freely  to  the  secretary.  It  was  also  becoming  more  and 
more  evident  that  the  tournament  could  not  possibly  be 
finished  in  the  time  allotted  to  it.  The  secretary  had 
spent  the  morning  urging  the  players  not  to  waste  time. 
It  particularly  annoyed  him  to  see  that  Simpkins'  two 
ladies  had  stopped  playing. 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  233 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  "  he  said.  "  Why  the—  I  mean 
to  say,  why  on  earth  don't  you  go  on  with  your 
game  ?  " 

"  I'm  sorry  to  interrupt  the  proceedings,"  said  Mel- 
don,  "  but  it  is  imperatively  necessary  for  me  to  have  a 
few  words  in  private  with  Simpkins." 

The  secretary  turned  on  Simpkins  at  once.  He  was 
one  of  the  people  who  had  grumbled  most  loudly  and 
continuously  about  his  handicap.  He  had  also  wasted 
time  by  raising  obscure  points  of  law  on  two  occasions. 
The  secretary  had  conceived  a  strong  dislike  for  him. 

"  Why  don't  you  go,"  he  said,  "  and  hear  what  this 
gentleman  has  to  say?  I'll  get  another  umpire." 

"  He  hasn't  anything  to  say  to  me,"  said  Simpkins. 

"  He  says  he  has,"  said  the  secretary,  "  and  he  ought 
to  know." 

"  Quite  right,"  said  Meldon.  "  I'm  the  only  person 
who  does  know.  Simpkins  can't  be  really  certain  that 
I  haven't  until  he  comes  and  listens." 

"  Go  at  once,"  said  the  secretary. 

Simpkins  looked  round  him  for  sympathy,  but  got 
none.  Public  opinion  was  dead  against  him.  The  men- 
tion of  Miss  King,  whom  nobody  knew,  suggested  the 
possibility  of  some  horrible  and  deeply  interesting  scan- 
dal. Simpkins  got  down  from  his  ladder.  Meldon  at 
once  took  him  by  the  arm  and  led  him  away. 

"  Where's  your  bicycle  ?  "  he  said. 

"  What  on  earth  do  you  want  with  me  ?  "  said  Simp- 
kins.  "  It's  quite  intolerable — " 

"  Miss  King  is  waiting  for  you,"  said  Meldon.  "  She 
expects  you  this  afternoon,  and  if  you  start  at  once  you'll 
just  be  there  in  time." 

"  But  I've  no  engagement  with  Miss  King." 


234  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  You  have  not,"  said  Meldon,  "  at  present.  But  you 
soon  will  have  an  engagement  of  the  most  solemn  and 
enduring  kind." 

"  What  on  earth  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Look  here,"  said  Meldon.  "  There's  no  use  beating 
about  the  bush  when  we  haven't  a  moment  to  spare. 
You  gave  me  to  understand  that  you  wanted  to  marry 
Miss  King." 

"  I  didn't.    All  I  said  was—" 

"  That  won't  do,"  said  Meldon.  "  You  may  think  that 
you  can  play  fast  and  loose  with  a  poor  girl's  affections 
in  that  sort  of  way,  and  so  you  might  if  she  was  lonely 
and  unprotected.  But  as  it  happens  that  judge  who  came 
to  Ballymoy  the  other  day  turned  out  to  be  Miss  King's 
uncle,  and  he's  quite  determined  to  see  this  business 
through.  I  was  telling  him  about  it  this  morning.  I 
pledged  my  word  to  have  you  on  the  spot  this  after- 
noon, and  to  get  the  whole  thing  settled  before  dinner." 

"  But  this  is  utterly  ridiculous.  I've  only  spoken  to 
the  woman  three  times  in  my  life." 

"  A  good  deal  can  be  done  in  three  interviews,"  said 
Meldon.  "  In  this  case  it  appears  that  a  good  deal  has 
been  done.  I  don't  profess  to  know  exactly  what  you 
said  to  Miss  King — " 

"  I  never  said  anything  to  her." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  assert  that  you  went  through  three 
interviews  without  uttering  a  single  word  ?  " 

"  Of  course  not.     What  I  mean  to  say  is — " 

"  Now  you're  beginning  to  hedge,"  said  Meldon,  "  and 
that's  a  bad  sign,  an  uncommonly  bad  sign.  No  man 
hedges  in  that  sort  of  way  unless  he  has  something  to 
conceal.  It's  perfectly  plain  to  me  that  you  said  a  good 
deal  to  Miss  King.  Anyhow,  she  evidently  thinks  you 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  235 

did.  She  told  the  whole  story  to  the  judge  last  night, 
and  he  spoke  to  me  about  it  this  morning." 

"Told  what  story?" 

"  Your  story.  And  the  upshot  of  it  was  that  I  prom- 
ised to  bring  you  there  this  afternoon.  It's  all  arranged. 
Miss  King  is  to  be  at  home.  The  judge  will  be  up  the 
river.  I  shall  leave  you  with  Miss  King,  and  then  join 
the  judge.  We  shall  give  you  a  clear  hour,  and  when 
we  come  back  we  shall  expect  to  hear  that  the  whole 
thing  is  settled." 

"  I  never  heard  of  such  an  absurd  entanglement  in  my 
life." 

"There  is  no  entanglement  about  it.  It's  perfectly 
simple,  plain,  and  straightforward.  Where's  your  bi- 
cycle?" 

Simpkins  wavered. 

"  Perhaps,"  he  said,  "  I'd  better  go  and  explain.  It's 
an  infernal  nuisance — " 

"  I  don't  quite  know  what  you  mean  by  explaining," 
said  Meldon.  "  There  seems  to  me  only  one  thing  for 
you  to  do,  and  that  is  to  go  at  once  and  offer  to  marry 
Miss  King.  Where's  your  bicycle  ?  " 

"  It's  behind  the  tent ;  but  I  must  tell  the  secretary  that 
I'm  going.  I'm  afraid  he'll  be  angry." 

"  If  that  bald-headed  man  with  the  white  moustache 
is  the  secretary,"  said  Meldon,  "  I  should  say  from  the 
way  he  spoke  just  now  that  he'll  be  extremely  glad.  If 
you  tell  him  the  whole  story  you'll  find  that  he'll  quite 
agree  with  me  about  what  your  duty  is." 

"  I  shan't  tell  him,  and  I  hope  you  won't." 

"  I  certainly  won't,"  said  Meldon.  "  I  have  too  high 
a  sense  of  the  value  of  time  to  waste  it  telling  stories  to 
that  secretary.  Come  along  and  get  your  bicycle." 


236  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  It's  just  as  well,"  said  Meldon  a  few  minutes  later, 
when  he  and  Simpkins  had  mounted  their  bicycles — "  it's 
just  as  well  that  you  have  on  those  white  trousers  and 
a  cool  sort  of  shirt.  We've  got  to  ride  pretty  fast,  and 
it  wouldn't  do  for  you  to  arrive  in  a  state  of  reeking 
heat." 

"  I  want  you  to  understand  clearly,"  said  Simpkins, 
"  that  I'm  not  going  to  do  anything  more  than  explain 
to  Miss  King  that  some  absurd  mistake  has  arisen;  ex- 
plain, and  apologise." 

"  If  you  like  to  call  it  explaining,  you  can.  But  I 
strongly  recommend  to  you  to  do  it  thoroughly.  I  may 
tell  you  that  I  have  Callaghan  posted  behind  a  tree  to 
watch  you,  and  if  you  don't  offer  Miss  King  proper 
tokens  of  affection,  I  shall  hear  of  it,  and  so  will  the 
judge.  It's  scarcely  necessary  for  me  to  tell  you,  Simp- 
kins,  that  the  judge  isn't  a  man  to  be  trifled  with." 

"  Tokens  of  affection !     Do  you  mean  that  I —  ?  " 

"  I  do,"  said  Meldon.  "  I  mean  that  exactly.  And 
you're  to  do  it  as  if  you  liked  it.  You  very  probably  will 
like  it,  once  you've  broken  the  ice." 

For  a  few  minutes  they  rode  on  in  silence.  Then 
Simpkins  spoke  again, — 

"  Do  you  mean  that  I  should — that  I  should  hold  her 
hand  and  kiss  her  ?  " 

"  After  you've  proposed  to  her,"  said  Meldon,  "  not 
before.  It  would  be  what  Callaghan  calls  impropriety 
of  conduct  if  you  did  it  before,  and  he'd  probably  inter- 
rupt you.  He  doesn't  like  that  sort  of  thing.  I  shouldn't 
like  it  myself  either,  and  I  don't  think  the  judge  would, 
although  he's  evidently  a  liberal-minded  man." 

"  I  couldn't  possibly  do  that,"  said  Simpkins.  "  I've 
only  spoken  to  her  three  times." 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  237 

"  You'll  have  to,"  said  Meldon,  "  after  she's  accepted 
you.  It's  the  usual  thing.  Miss  King  will  be  angry, 
quite  rightly  angry  and  insulted,  if  you  don't.  You 
read  any  novel  you  like,  and  you'll  find  that  as  soon 
as  ever  the  hero  has  proposed  to  the  heroine,  often 
without  waiting  for  her  answer,  he  rains  passionate 
kisses  on  some  part  of  her,  generally  her  hair.  I  don't 
ask  you  to  go  as  far  as  that ;  but  one  or  two  kisses — you 
can  begin  with  her  hand  if  you  like,  and  work  on  grad- 
ually." 

"  Of  course  I  shall  do  nothing  of  the  sort,"  said  Simp- 
kins.  "  I  shall  simply  explain  to  Miss  King  that  owing 
to  some  sort  of  muddle — " 

"  If  I  were  you,  Simpkins,  I  shouldn't  talk  too  much. 
From  the  gaspy  sort  of  way  you're  speaking  now,  I 
imagine  you're  not  in  particularly  good  training,  and  you 
have  a  long  ride  before  you.  It  will  be  most  unfortunate 
if,  when  I've  planted  you  down  in  front  of  Miss  King, 
you  are  unable  to  do  anything  except  pant.  No  girl 
would  stand  that.  By  far  the  best  plan  for  you  is  to 
breathe  entirely  through  your  nose,  and  sit  well  back  in 
your  saddle,  so  that  your  chest  and  lungs  are  kept  prop- 
erly expanded." 

Simpkins  spoke  no  more  for  some  time.  He  may  have 
considered  the  advice  good.  He  may  have  felt  an  in- 
creasing difficulty  in  talking  when  riding  very  rapidly. 
When  they  reached  Ballymoy  there  were  signs  of  unusual 
excitement  in  the  street.  Doyle  and  O'Donoghue  were 
standing  on  the  steps  of  the  hotel.  A  small  crowd  had 
gathered  on  the  road  in  front  of  them.  Most  of  the 
shopkeepers  were  at  the  doors  of  their  shops.  A  con- 
siderable number  of  women  were  looking  out  of  the 
upper  windows  of  the  houses.  A  cheer  arose  as  the 


238  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

two  bicyclists  passed  through  the  town.  Meldon  took 
off  his  hat  and  waved  it. 

"  Musha,  good  luck  to  you,"  shouted  a  woman's  voice. 

"  That,"  said  Meldon,  "  is  almost  certainly  Sabina  Gal- 
lagher. She's  naturally  greatly  interested  on  account  of 
her  cousin." 

"Interested  in  what?"  gasped  Simpkins. 

"  Your  marriage,"  said  Meldon.  "  I  mentioned  it  to 
Doyle  this  morning,  and  he  has  evidently  told  every  one 
'about  the  place." 

Simpkins  stopped  abruptly  and  got  off  his  bicycle. 

"  I'm  damned,"  he  said,  "  if  I'm  going  to  stand  this." 

Meldon  also  dismounted. 

"  Get  up  at  once,  Simpkins,"  he  said.  "  We  are  late 
enough  as  it  is." 

"  I'm  going  straight  home,"  said  Simpkins. 

"  From  the  look  of  Doyle  and  O'Donoghue  and  the 
crowd  there  was  in  the  street,"  said  Meldon,  "  I  should 
say  that  they'll  probably  mob  you  if  you  go  back  now. 
You're  not  over  and  above  popular  in  the  place  as  things 
stand ;  and,  if  the  people  think  that  you're  behaving  badly 
to  Miss  King,  they'll  very  likely  kill  you.  From  what 
I've  heard  since  I've  been  here  I  don't  expect  the  police 
will  interfere  to  save  you." 

"  I'm  not  going  to  be  made  a  public  laughing-stock." 

"  You'll  be  that  and  worse  if  you  turn  back.  There 
isn't  a  woman  or  a  girl  about  the  place  but  will  be  mak- 
ing jokes  about  you  if  you  funk  it  now.  Come  on." 

Simpkins  looked  back  at  the  street  he  had  just  left. 
The  people  were  standing  together  gazing  after  him 
curiously.  He  mounted  his  bicycle  and  rode  on,  fol- 
lowed by  Meldon. 

"I  shall  explain  to  Miss  King,"  he  said,  "that  the 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  239 

unpleasant  situation  in  which  we  find  ourselves  placed 
is  in  no  way  my  fault." 

"  You  can  try  that  if  you  like,"  said  Meldon.     "  But 
I  don't  expect  she'll  be  at  all  satisfied." 


CHAPTER  XXI 

IN  spite  of  the  fact  that  his  trousers  were  white  in- 
stead of  black,  and  that  he  wore  a  shirt  with  a  soft 
collar  attached  to  it,  Simpkins  looked  hotter  and  more 
dishevelled  than  Meldon  when  they  arrived  together  at 
the  gate  of  Ballymoy  House.  They  had  ridden  fast,  and 
it  was  only  a  little  after  five  o'clock  when  they  turned 
off  the  highroad  into  the  shady  avenue. 

"  Now,"  said  Meldon,  "  you  can  dismount  if  you  like, 
and  walk  up  under  the  trees  to  cool  yourself.  I  quite 
admit  that  an  appearance  of  breathless  eagerness  is  suit- 
able enough  under  the  circumstances.  Every  woman 
likes  to  feel  that  a  man  would  come  to  her  at  the  top 
of  his  speed.  Still,  it's  quite  possible  to  overdo  it,  and 
I  think  you'd  be  better  this  minute  of  being  a  little  less 
purple  in  the  face.  Are  you  very  thirsty  ?  " 

"  I  am,"  said  Simpkins.     "  Anybody  would  be." 

He  spoke  rather  sulkily.  He  resented  the  way  in 
which  Meldon  had  forced  him  to  ride,  and  he  did  not 
like  paying  a  visit  to  a  lady,  even  though  he  did  not  in- 
tend to  propose  to  marry  her,  when  he  was  covered  from 
head  to  foot  with  dust. 

"  You're  not  too  thirsty  to  speak,  anyhow,"  said  Mel- 
don. "  I  was  afraid  you  might  be.  It  wouldn't  have 
done  if  your  mouth  had  been  all  parched  up  like  the 

240 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  241 

Ancient  Mariner's,  just  before  he  bit  his  arm  and  sucked 
the  blood.  Recollect  that  you  have  to  speak  distinctly 
and  slowly,  as  well  as  persuasively.  You  can't  expect 
Miss  King  to  do  all  the  talking  in  this  case.  Her  busi- 
ness is  to  blush  and  hang  back." 

"  I've  told  you  already,"  said  Simpkins,  "  that  I'm  sim- 
ply-" 

"  Don't  start  an  argument ;  but  take  a  wisp  of  grass 
and  wipe  as  much  dust  off  your  shoes  as  you  can.  I 
don't  object  to  dusty  shoes  for  myself  in  the  least,  but 
they  don't  suit  your  style." 

Simpkins  did  as  he  was  told,  for  he  did  not  share 
Meldon's  indifference  to  dust.  He  also  wiped  his  face 
carefully  with  a  pocket  handkerchief,  giving  it  a  streaky 
look. 

"  I  don't  think,"  said  Meldon,  "  that  you've  improved 
your  appearance  much  by  that  last  performance.  You 
were  better  before.  But  never  mind.  Miss  King  has 
seen  you  at  your  best,  the  Sunday  afternoon  I  brought 
you  up  to  call,  and  she'll  recollect  what  you  looked  like 
then.  In  any  case,  nothing  you  can  do  will  make  you 
as  ghastly  as  you  were  that  day  on  the  yacht.  If  she 
put  up  with  you  then,  she  won't  mind  you  now.  Come 
on." 

They  left  their  bicycles  near  the  gate,  and  walked  up 
together  along  the  avenue. 

"  Pull  yourself  together  now,  Simpkins,"  said  Meldon. 
"  The  crisis  of  your  life  is  almost  on  you.  When  we 
turn  the  next  corner  you'll  see  Miss  King  seated  on  a 
wicker  chair  on  the  lawn,  waiting  for  you.  At  first  she'll 
pretend  not  to  see  us ;  though,  of  course,  she  will  see  us 
out  of  the  corner  of  her  eye.  When  we  get  quite  close, 
so  close  that  she  can't  possibly  ignore  us  any  longer, 


242  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

she  will  look  up  suddenly,  cast  down  her  eyes  again  with 
a  blush,  and  exhibit  every  sign  of  pleasurable  embarrass- 
ment. That  will  be  your  opportunity.  Step  forward 
and  fling  yourself  at  her  feet,  if  that's  the  way  you  have 
determined  to  do  it.  I  shall  slip  quietly  away,  and  be 
out  of  sight  almost  at  once.  .  .  .  Hullo !  " 

The  exclamation  was  one  of  extreme  surprise.  The 
scene,  when  he  turned  the  corner,  was  not  exactly  as  he 
had  described  it  to  Simpkins.  Miss  King,  indeed,  was 
there,  seated  in  a  wicker  chair,  very  much  as  he  had 
expected.  Beside  her  was  a  table  littered  with  tea  things. 
At  her  feet,  on  a  rug,  sat  Major  Kent,  in  an  awkward 
attitude,  with  a  peculiarly  silly  look  on  his  face.  Sir 
Gilbert  Hawkesby  sat  upright,  at  a  little  distance,  in 
another  chair.  He  appeared  to  be  delivering  some  kind 
of  an  address  to  Miss  King  and  Major  Kent. 

"  This,"  said  Meldon,  "  is  awkward,  uncommonly  awk- 
ward. You  see  the  result  of  being  late,  Simpkins.  The 
judge  has  evidently  given  you  up,  and  come  down  from 
the  river.  What  the  Major  is  doing  here,  I  can't  say. 
He's  the  sort  of  man  who  will  blunder,  if  blundering  is 
possible." 

"  I  think,"  said  Simpkins,  "  that  we'd  better  turn  back. 
I  can  call  to-morrow  instead." 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Meldon.  "  It'll  be  all  right.  The 
judge  knows  what  is  expected  of  him,  and  will  disappear 
at  once,  making  a  plausible  excuse,  so  as  not  to  embarrass 
Miss  King  unnecessarily.  I  shall  deal  with  the  Major. 
It  won't  take  me  five  minutes." 

"  Still,"  said  Simpkins,  "  it  might  be  better—" 

"  You  can't  run  away  now,  in  any  case,"  said  Meldon. 
"  They've  seen  us. — Hullo,  Miss  King !  Here  we  are  at 
last.  I'm  sure  you  thought  we  were  never  coming." 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  243 

He  dragged  Simpkins  forward  by  the  arm.  Miss  King, 
blushing  deeply,  to  Meldon's  great  delight,  rose  from  her 
chair  and  came  forward  to  meet  them.  The  judge,  a 
broad  smile  on  his  face,  followed  her.  The  Major  hung 
about  in  the  background,  and  appeared  to  be  nervous. 

"  You'd  like  some  tea,  I'm  sure,"  said  Miss  King. 

"  Not  for  me,"  said  Meldon ;  "  but  Mr.  Simpkins  will 
be  delighted  to  get  a  cup." 

"  Oh !  but  you  must  have  some,"  said  Miss  King. 
"  You  look  so  hot." 

"  Mr.  Simpkins  is  hot.  I'm  not  in  the  least.  In  fact, 
what  I'd  like  most  would  be  a  short  stroll  up  the  river 
with  Sir  Gilbert  and  the  Major." 

"  Certainly,"  said  the  judge.  "  I've  had  my  tea,  and 
I'm  quite  ready  for  a  walk." 

"  Come  along,  Major,"  said  Meldon. 

Major  Kent  showed  no  sign  of  moving.  He  had 
established  himself  behind  Miss  King's  chair,  and  was 
eyeing  Simpkins  with  an  expression  of  hostility  and  dis- 
trust. 

"  Never  mind  the  Major,"  said  the  judge.  "  He's  all 
right  where  he  is." 

He  took  Meldon's  arm  as  he  spoke  and  strolled  off 
across  the  lawn.  Meldon  turned  and  winked  angrily  at 
the  Major.  The  judge  began  an  account  of  the  capture 
of  his  last  salmon,  holding  fast  to  Meldon's  arm. 

"  Excuse  me  one  moment,"  said  Meldon.  "  I  must 
give  the  Major  a  hint.  He's  one  of  those  men  who, 
though  extremely  kind  and  sympathetic,  is  often  a  little 
wanting  in  tact." 

"  He's  all  right,"  said  the  judge.     "  He's  quite  happy." 

"  I  daresay  he  is,"  said  Meldon.  "  My  point  is  that 
Simpkins  isn't.  How  can  he  possibly — ?" 


244  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  Now  that  we're  out  of  earshot,"  said  the  judge,  "  I 
hope  that  you'll  allow  me  to  congratulate  you  on  the 
success  of  your  plan.  Your  management  of  the  details 
was  admirable." 

Meldon  was  susceptible  to  this  kind  of  flattery,  and  he 
felt  that  he  deserved  a  little  praise.  It  had  been  no 
easy  matter  to  track  Simpkins  to  Donard,  and  very 
difficult  to  bring  him  back  to  Ballymoy.  He  forgot  the 
Major  for  a  moment  and  went  willingly  with  the  judge. 

"  I  had  rather  a  job  of  it,"  he  said.  "  I  had  to  go  the 
whole  way  to  Donard  to  get  him." 

The  judge  seemed  surprised. 

"Really!"  he  said.  "I  should  hardly  have  thought 
there's  been  time  for  you  to  go  and  come  back." 

"  I  ride  pretty  fast,"  said  Meldon,  with  an  air  of 
satisfaction. 

"  And  the  Major  never  said  a  word  about  it." 

"  The  Major  didn't  know.  I  don't  tell  the  Major  all 
the  details  of  my  plans.  You  scarcely  know  him  yet, 
Sir  Gilbert.  When  you  do  you'll  understand  that  he  isn't 
the  kind  of  man  to  whom  any  one  would  confide  the 
working  out  of  a  delicate  negotiation.  He's  a  thorough 
gentleman,  quite  the  best  type  of  military  officer ;  a  man 
who  might  be  trusted  to  run  absolutely  straight  under 
any  circumstances.  But  he  has  the  defects  of  his  quali- 
ties. He's  rather  thick-headed,  and  he  takes  an  ex- 
traordinary delight  in  arguing." 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  you  speak  so  well  of  him,"  said  the 
judge,  "  now  that  he's — " 

"  I  think  I'll  go  back  and  get  him  now,"  said  Meldon. 
"  He  has  a  very  strong  dislike  for  Simpkins,  and  I 
wouldn't  like  him  to  break  out  in  any  way  before  Miss 
King.  It  might  be  awkward  for  her." 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  245 

"  He  won't,"  said  the  judge.  "  In  his  present  temper 
he  won't  break  out  against  any  one.  He's  almost  idiotic- 
ally happy.  You  might  have  seen  it  in  his  face." 

"  He  had  a  sheepish  look,"  said  Meldon.  "  It's  a 
curious  thing,  isn't  it,  Sir  Gilbert,  that  when  a  man  is 
really  satisfied  with  himself  he  gets  to  look  like  a  sheep. 
I  daresay  you've  noticed  it,  or  perhaps  you  haven't.  In 
your  particular  line  of  life  you  come  more  into  contact 
with  people  who  are  extremely  dissatisfied.  Still,  oc- 
casionally you  must  have  had  a  chance  of  seeing  some  one 
who  had  just  had  an  unusual  stroke  of  good  luck.  Mrs. 
Lorimer,  for  instance  " — Meldon  winked  at  the  judge — 
"  when  the  jury  brought  in  its  verdict  of  *  Not  Guilty.' 
But  I  really  must  run  back  for  the  Major." 

The  judge  seemed  disinclined  to  discuss  Mrs  Lorimer, 
but  he  held  fast  to  Meldon's  arm. 

"  After  what  you  said  to  me  this  morning,"  he  said, 
"  the  events  of  the  afternoon  were  not  altogether  a  sur- 
prise, though  I  confess  I  didn't  know  that  my  niece  cared 
as  much  as  she  does." 

"  Oh,  she's  very  keen  on  it." 

"  So  it  appears ;  but  would  you  mind  telling  me  how 
you  knew  that  ?  " 

"  She  told  me  so  herself." 

"She—    Oh!" 

The  judge  looked  Meldon  straight  in  the  face.  He 
was  surprised,  and  evidently  sceptical. 

"  If  you  don't  believe  me,"  said  Meldon,  "  ask  Miss 
King." 

"  Anyhow,"  said  the  judge,  "  however  you  knew  it,  you 
were  perfectly  right.  I  don't  like  to  go  into  details,  but 
when  I  came  down  from  the  river  this  afternoon  the 
position  of  affairs  was  quite  plain  to  me." 


246  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  She  was  looking  eager,  I  suppose,  and  perhaps  a  little 
anxious." 

"  I  should  hardly  say  anxious.     The  fact  is  that  they — " 

"  Was  the  Major  there  then  ?  " 

"  Of  course  he  was,"  said  the  judge. 

"  I  don't  see  any  '  of  course  '  about  it.  He  might  have 
come  afterwards." 

"  If  you'd  seen  what  I  saw,"  said  the  judge — "  a  mere 
glimpse,  of  course  I  coughed  at  once.  But  if  you'd  been 
there  you'd  know  that  he  couldn't  have  come  afterwards. 
He  must  have  been  there  for  some  time." 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  said  Meldon. 

"  If  you  will  have  it  in  plain  language,"  said  the  judge, 
"  the  whole  thing  was  settled,  and  the  usual  accompani- 
ments were  in  full  swing." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  suggest  that  my  friend  Major  Kent 
was  kissing  Miss  King?  " 

"  As  well  as  I  could  see,  he  was." 

"  After  proposing  to  her  ?  " 

"  Certainly.     He  wouldn't  do  it  before." 

"  There's  been  some  frightful  mistake,"  said  Meldon. 
"  I  must  go  back  and  set  things  straight  at  once." 

"  Wait  a  minute.  Surely  this  is  what  you  wanted  all 
along?" 

"  No.  It  isn't.  What  I  arranged — what  do  you  sup- 
pose I  brought  Simpkins  here  for?  " 

"  I  don't  know  in  the  least.  To  tell  you  the  truth, 
Simpkins  strikes  me  as  de  trop.  What  did  you  bring 
him  for?" 

"  I  brought  him  to  marry  Miss  King,  of  course." 

"  I  must  have  misunderstood  you  this  morning,"  said 
the  judge.  "  I  thought  Major  Kent  was  the  man  you 
were  backing." 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  247 

"  You  can't  have  thought  that,"  said  Meldon.  "  I 
spoke  quite  plainly." 

"  My  niece  seems  to  have  made  the  same  mistake,"  said 
the  judge.  "  I'm  sure  she  was  quite  prepared  to  take  the 
man  you  recommended,  whoever  he  was,  and  she  has 
taken  Major  Kent.  You  can't  have  spoken  as  plainly  as 
you  thought  you  did.  We  both  took  you  up  wrong." 

"  Who  brought  the  Major  here?  " 

"  Till  just  this  minute,"  said  the  judge,  "  I  thought  you 
did." 

"  I  didn't.  How  could  I  possibly  have  brought  him 
when  I  was  off  at  Donard  kidnapping  that  idiot  Simpkins, 
and  carrying  him  off  from  the  middle  of  a  tennis  tourna- 
ment. It  ought  to  have  been  perfectly  obvious  that  I 
couldn't  have  brought  the  Major  here.  Even  you,  with 
your  extraordinary  faculty  for  making  mistakes  about 
perfectly  simple  things,  must  be  able  to  see  that." 

"  If  you  didn't  bring  him,"  said  the  judge,  "  I  suppose 
he  came  by  himself.  Very  likely  he  fell  into  the  same 
mistake  that  my  niece  and  I  did.  He  may  have  thought 
you  wanted  him  to  marry  her." 

"  He  can't  possibly  have  thought  anything  of  the  sort. 
I've  told  him  all  along — in  fact,  it  was  really  his 
plan." 

"  That  Simpkins  should  marry  my  niece?  " 

"  Yes.     We've  talked  it  over  a  dozen  times  at  least." 

"  Of  the  two,"  said  the  judge,  "  I'd  rather  have  the 
Major  for  a  nephew.  I  scarcely  know  him,  and  I  don't 
know  Simpkins  at  all ;  but  judging  simply  by  appearances, 
I  should  say  that  the  Major  is  the  better  man." 

"  He  is,  decidedly.  Simpkins  is  in  every  way  his 
inferior.  The  fact  is — I  don't  want  to  say  anything  to 
hurt  your  feelings." 


248  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  Don't  mind  my  feelings.  They're  accustomed  to 
laceration." 

"  Well,  I  think  the  Major  is  too  good  a  man  to — " 

"  You  can't  expect  me  to  agree  with  you  there,"  said 
the  judge.  "  But  I  appreciate  your  point  of  view,  and  I 
respect  your  feeling  of  affection  for  your  friend." 

"  There's  no  use  beating  about  the  bush  in  this  way," 
said  Meldon.  "  If  you  think  I'm  going  to  remain  pas- 
sively indifferent  while  my  unfortunate  friend  allows 
himself  to  be  entrapped  by  a  woman  like  Mrs.  Lorimer — " 

"  Good  Heavens !  "  said  the  judge.  "  Mrs.  Lorimer ! 
What  on  earth  has  Mrs.  Lorimer — ?  " 

"  There's  no  use  your  pretending  to  be  ignorant  of  the 
facts,"  said  Meldon.  "  You  must  know  them." 

He  wrenched  his  arm  from  the  judge's  grip  as  he 
spoke,  and  started  at  a  rapid  pace  towards  the  lawn. 
Sir  Gilbert  Hawkesby  hesitated  for  a  moment  with  a 
look  of  bewilderment  on  his  face.  Then  he  ran  after 
Meldon,  and  caught  him  by  the  arm  again. 

"  Hold  on  a  minute,"  he  said.  "  Something  has  just 
occurred  to  me.  Before  you  do  anything  rash  let  me 
tell  you  a  little  story." 

"  I  can't  wait,"  said  Meldon.  "  Every  moment  in- 
creases the  Major's  danger.  Further  endearments — " 

"  We  needn't  be  afraid  of  that,"  said  the  judge,  "  while 
Simpkins  is  there,  and  I  really  do  want  to  tell  you  my 
story.  It  may,  I  think  it  will,  alter  your  whole  view  of 
the  situation." 

"  I'll  give  you  two  minutes,"  said  Meldon,  taking  out 
his  watch. 

"  One  will  do,"  said  the  judge,  speaking  rapidly.  "  All 
I  have  to  say  is  this.  I  met  Mrs.  Lorimer  on  the  plat- 
form of  Euston  Station  on  the  evening  of  her  acquittal, 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  249 

and  I  mistook  her  for  my  niece  who  was  travelling  in  the 
same  train." 

Meldon  put  his  watch  into  his  pocket  and  stared  at  the 
judge. 

"  It  was  quite  an  excusable  mistake,"  said  Sir  Gilbert, 
soothingly.  "  Any  one  might  have  made  it.  The  like- 
ness is  extraordinary." 

"  The  thing  to  do  now,"  said  Meldon  after  a  long  pause, 
"  is  to  get  Simpkins  out  of  this  as  quickly  as  possible. 
He's  no  use  here." 

"  None,"  said  the  judge.     "  Why  did  you  bring  him?  " 

"  I  brought  him  to  marry  your  niece,"  said  Meldon. 
"  I  told  you  that  before." 

"  Marry ! —  Oh  yes,  while  you  thought  she  was — 
Do  you  dislike  Simpkins  very  much  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  don't.  But  everybody  else,  including  the 
Major,  does." 

"  I'm  beginning  to  understand  things  a  little,"  said  the 
judge,  "  and  I  agree  with  you  that  the  first  thing  to  be 
done  is  to  remove  Simpkins.  We  shall  have  a  good  deal 
to  talk  over,  and  his  presence — " 

"  When  you  speak  of  talking  things  over,"  said  Meldon, 
"  I  hope  you've  no  intention  of  alluding  to  Mrs.  Lorimer 
in  your  niece's  company.  After  all,  we  ought  to  recollect 
that  we're  gentlemen.  I've  always  done  my  best  to  spare 
her  feelings,  and  I  hope  that  nothing — " 

"  I  shan't  mention  the  subject." 

Meldon  and  Sir  Gilbert  walked  back  together.  They 
found  the  group  on  the  lawn  in  a  state  of  obvious  discom- 
fort. Major  Kent  was  standing  behind  Miss  King's 
chair,  looking  like  a  policeman  on  guard  over  some 
specially  valuable  life  threatened  by  a  murderer.  His 
face  wore  an  expression  of  suspicious  watchfulness. 


250  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

Simpkins  sat  on  the  chair  previously  occupied  by  Sir 
Gilbert,  and  looked  ill  at  ease.  He  had  a  cup  of  tea 
balanced  on  his  knee.  His  eyes  wandered  restlessly 
from  Miss  King  to  Major  Kent,  and  then  back  again. 
He  did  not  see  his  way  to  making  his  apology  or  offering 
his  explanation  while  Major  Kent  was  present.  At  the 
same  time  he  dreaded  being  left  alone  with  Miss  King. 
Now  that  he  was  face  to  face  with  her  he  felt  a  great 
difficulty  in  giving  any  account  of  himself.  Miss  King 
was  doing  her  best  to  keep  up  a  friendly  conversation 
with  him,  but  the  Major  refused  to  speak  a  word,  and 
she  felt  the  awkwardness  of  the  situation. 

"  I  suppose,  Simpkins,"  said  Meldon,  "  that  your 
tournament  would  be  over  by  the  time  you  got  back  to 
Donard,  even  if  you  started  at  once." 

Simpkins  rose  to  his  feet  with  alacrity.  He  did  not 
like  being  hunted  about  the  country  by  Meldon,  and  he 
had  no  intention  of  going  back  to  Donard;  but  he 
welcomed  any  prospect  of  escape  from  the  horrible  situ- 
ation in  which  he  found  himself. 

"  Won't  you  finish  your  tea  ?  "  said  Miss  King. 

"He  has  finished  it,"  said  Meldon;  "and  he'd  better 
not  have  any  more  if  he  means  to  ride  back  to  Donard. 
He's  not  in  good  training,  and  another  chunk  of  that  rich 
cake  of  yours,  Miss  King,  might  upset  him.  Good-bye, 
Simpkins." 

"  I'd  like,"  said  Simpkins,  trying  to  assert  himself,  "  to 
speak  a  word  to  you,  Mr.  Meldon." 

"  So  you  shall,"  said  Meldon,  "  but  not  now.  The  day 
after  to-morrow  you  shall  say  all  you  want  to.  Just  at 
present  I  haven't  time  to  listen  to  you." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Simpkins,  turning  to  Miss  King,  "  I'd 
better  say  good-bye." 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  251 

He  shook  hands  with  her  and  Sir  Gilbert,  absolutely 
ignored  Meldon  and  Major  Kent,  and  walked  across  the 
lawn.  Meldon  ran  after  him. 

"  I  hope,  Simpkins,"  he  said,  "  that  this  will  be  a  lesson 
to  you.  Owing  to  your  miserable  procrastination,  the 
Major  has  stepped  in  before  you  and  secured  Miss  King. 
You  might  just  mention  that  to  Doyle  and  O'Donoghue 
as  you  pass  the  hotel.  They'll  be  anxious  to  hear  the 
news." 


CHAPTER  XXII 

MAJOR  KENT  and  Meldon  dined  at  Ballymoy 
House,  and  spent  a  very  pleasant  evening.  At 
eleven  o'clock  they  started  on  their  drive  home. 

"  I'm  sorry — "  said  the  Major,  and  then  paused. 

"  I  hope  not,"  said  Meldon.    "  You  ought  not  to  be." 

"  I'm  not,"  said  the  Major.  "  I  merely  meant  that 
I'm  afraid  this  rather  unexpected — " 

"  Go  on,"  said  Meldon.  "  I'd  like  to  get  at  your  exact 
feelings  if  I  can." 

"  Isn't  this  rather — rather  an  upset  for  you,  J.  J.  ?  " 

"Forme?" 

"Yes.  On  account  of  that  plan  of  yours — Simpkins, 
you  know.  I  was  afraid  all  the  time  you  would  feel 
disappointed." 

"  My  plan,"  said  Meldon,  "  is  perfectly  sound,  and  is 
working  out  admirably." 

"  But  you  said  that  you  meant — " 

"  You're  making  one  of  your  usual  mistakes,  Major. 
You're  confusing  the  end  I  had  in  view  with  the  means 
I  adopted  to  bring  it  about.  What  I  originally  under- 
took to  do  was  to  remove  Simpkins  from  Ballymoy.  In 
that  I  have  been  entirely  successful.  He  can't,  simply 
can't,  spend  another  week  in  the  place.  I  mentioned  to 
Doyle  this  morning  that  Simpkins  intended  to  marry 

252 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  253 

Miss  King.  Doyle  evidently  told  several  other  people, 
for  half  the  town  was  out  to  cheer  us  as  we  passed 
through  on  our  way  from  Donard.  When  Simpkins 
sneaked  back  at  about  six  o'clock  this  evening,  looking 
like  a  whipped  dog,  there  was  sure  to  have  been  a  large 
crowd  to  meet  him.  I  said  he  was  to  tell  Doyle  the 
result  as  he  passed;  but  whether  he  did  or  not,  Doyle 
is  sure  to  have  found  it  out  before  night.  How  do  you 
suppose  Simpkins  will  be  feeling?" 

The  Major  chuckled. 

"  And  what  do  you  suppose  will  happen  ?  "  said  Meldon. 

"  I  don't  know.    They'll  laugh  at  him,  I  expect." 

"Laugh  isn't  the  word,"  said  Meldon.  "They'll  get 
out  the  town  band  and  play  tunes  under  his  window  half 
the  night.  He  won't  be  able  to  put  his  nose  outside  the 
door  without  being  met  by  a  tribe  of  small  boys  grinning. 
There  isn't  a  woman  or  a  girl  in  the  place,  from  Sabina 
Gallagher  up,  but  will  be  making  fun  of  him.  Doyle  and 
O'Donoghue  and  all  the  police  will  call  round  to  condole 
with  him.  No  man  could  stand  it  for  a  week.  He'll 
go  to-morrow,  and  have  his  luggage  sent  after  him. 
That's  the  way  my  plan  has  worked  out  with  regard  to 
Simpkins,  and  I've  no  reason  to  be  ashamed  of  it." 

"  I'm  glad  you  look  at  it  that  way,  J.  J.  I  was  afraid 
perhaps — " 

"  You  needn't  have  been.  I'm  not  one  of  those  small- 
minded  men  who  allow  themselves  to  be  tied  to  details, 
and  are  irritated  because  things  don't  go  exactly  as  they 
expect.  I  look  to  the  real  object,  the  great  ultimate  end 
which  I  hope  to  achieve.  As  long  as  that  comes  off  all 
right  I  don't  worry  myself  about  trifles.  In  this  case  I 
consider — and  everybody  who  takes  a  large  view  will 
also  consider — that  I  have  been  entirely  successful. 


254  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

And  now  let's  talk  of  something  else.  I'll  marry  you,  of 
course." 

"  We  both  hope  you  will,"  said  the  Major. 

"Right.    That's  settled.    What  about  bridesmaids?" 

"  We  haven't  gone  into  that  yet." 

"  You  must  have  bridesmaids,  of  course.  And  I  don't 
think  you  could  do  better  than  your  own  god-daughter. 
She'll  be  over  the  whooping-cough  by  that  time,  I  hope." 

"I'd  like  that  very  much,"  said  the  Major.  "But 
isn't  she  rather  small  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all.  She  can  be  led  up  the  aisle  immediately 
behind  the  bride.  Sabina  Gallagher  can  lead  her.  I'm 
going  to  engage  Sabina  as  nurse  and  general  servant. 
Now  that  Simpkins  is  going,  Doyle  can  get  the  red-haired 
girl,  Sabina's  cousin.  She'll  do  him  quite  well  for  all 
he  wants.  And  he  never  properly  appreciated  Sabina. 
Shall  we  regard  that  as  settled?" 

"  I  suppose  it  will  be  all  right." 

"  Quite,"  said  Meldon.  "  You  may  safely  leave  it  in 
my  hands.  And  now,  Major,  since  everything  has 
worked  out  in  such  a  satisfactory  way  for  you,  I  hope 
you'll  try  and  feel  more  kindly  towards  poor  Simpkins. 
He'll  suffer  a  lot  as  it  is ;  and  I  don't  think  you  ought  to 
make  any  further  attempt  on  his  life.  I  always  thought 
you  were  going  too  far  in  your  resentment." 

"J.J.,  I  really-" 

"The  judge  will  let  you  fish  anywhere  you  like;  so 
that  you  haven't  a  ghost  of  a  grievance  left." 

"  I'll  ask  Simpkins  to  the  wedding  if  you  like." 

"  That,"  said  Meldon,  "  would  be  a  refinement  of 
cruelty,  and  I  won't  consent  to  its  being  done.  Wanting 
to  kill  the  man  was  bad  enough.  I  never  liked  it.  But 
what  you  proposed  now  is  infinitely  worse.  Why  can't 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  255 

you  forgive  the  wretched  creature,  and  then  forget  all 
about  him  ?  " 

It  was  half-past  twelve  o'clock.  Major  Kent,  in  spite 
of  the  excitement  of  the  afternoon,  was  sound  asleep 
when  he  was  roused  by  a  sharp  knocking  at  the  door. 
He  sat  up  in  bed  and  struck  a  match. 

"  Good  gracious,  J.  J.,"  he  said,  "  what  on  earth  do  you 
want  at  this  time  of  night  ?  Why  aren't  you  asleep  ?  " 

"  I  couldn't  sleep,"  said  Meldon,  "  with  the  feeling  on 
my  mind  that  I  had  been  doing  a  wrong — quite  without 
malice  and  under  circumstances  which  excuse  it,  but  still 
doing  a  wrong  to  Miss  King." 

"  You  mean  in  mistaking  her — " 

"  Quite  so." 

"  That'll  be  all  right,  J.  J.  Don't  worry  about  it.  Go 
back  to  bed  again." 

"  I'm  not  worrying  in  the  least,"  said  Meldon.  "  I 
never  worry ;  but  when  I've  done  a  wrong  to  anybody,  I 
like  to  make  amends  at  once." 

"  You  can't  do  anything  to-night.  It's  too  late.  Do 
go  back  to  bed." 

"  I  have  done  something.  I've  made  amends,  and 
here  they  are.  I  want  you  to  give  them  to  her  to-morrow 
morning." 

He  held  out  a  sheet  of  paper  as  he  spoke. 

"  If  that's  a  written  apology,"  said  the  Major,  "  it's 
quite  unnecessary.  But  you  can  leave  it  on  the  dressing- 
table.  It's  nice  of  you  to  think  of  making  it." 

"  It's  not  an  apology,"  said  Meldon.  "  Apologies  are 
futile  things.  This  is  something  that  will  be  of  some  use 
and  real  value  to  Miss  King.  It's  the  end  of  a  novel." 

"  What  are  you  talking  about  ?  " 


256  THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT 

"  I've  always  understood,"  said  Meldon,  "  that  the  last 
few  paragraphs  of  a  novel  are  by  far  the  most  difficult 
part  to  write.  Now  that  I've  found  out  what  Miss  King's 
art  really  is,  I  think  the  best  thing  I  can  do,  by  way  of 
making  amends  for  my  unfortunate  mistake,  is  to  hand 
over  to  her  the  conclusion  of  a  novel,  ready  written. 
I've  been  at  it  ever  since  you  went  to  bed.  Here  it  is. 
I'll  just  read  it  out  to  you,  and  then  you  can  give  it  to  her 
with  my  compliments  to-morrow  morning. 

" '  The  evening  closed  slowly,  a  glory  still  linger- 
ing on  the  shining  waters  of  the  bay,  as  if  day  were 
indeed  loth  to  leave  the  scene  it  had  found  so  fair. 
A  solitary  figure  breasted  the  long  hill  above  the 
little  town,  striding  steadily  along  the  grey  road, 
which  wound  eastwards  into  the  gloom.' 

"  It  may  perhaps  be  better  to  mention  to  you,  Major, 
though  Miss  King  will  recognise  the  fact  at  once  for  her- 
self, that  the  solitary  figure  is  Simpkins. 

"  *  At  the  crown  of  the  hill,  just  where  the  road 
begins  to  dip  again,  at  the  spot  where  the  last  view 
of  the  town  and  the  bay  is  obtained,  the  lonely 
traveller  paused.  He  turned  round,  and  for  a  while 
stood  gazing  wistfully  at  the  scene  he  had  left 
behind.  The  hum  of  the  town's  life,  the  sudden 
shouting  of  the  children  at  their  play,  even,  as  he 
fancied,  the  eternal  pathos  of  the  ocean's  murmur- 
ing, were  borne  upwards  to  him  on  the  evening 
breeze.  Far  off,  among  the  trees,  twinkled  a  solitary 
light.  A  great  sob  shook  his  frame  suddenly. 
There,  in  the  warm  glow  of  the  lamp,  whose  rays 


THE  SIMPKINS  PLOT  257 

reached  him  like  those  of  some  infinitely  distant 
star,  sat  the  woman  whom  he  loved,  who  might  have 
been  his,  who  was —  Ah  me!  He  set  his  teeth. 
His  lips,  bloodless  now  as  the  very  lips  of  death, 
were  pressed  tight  together.  He  turned  again,  and, 
still  walking  bravely,  decended  the  hill  into  the 
gloom. 

"  '  So  life  deals  with  us.  To  one  is  given,  and  he 
hath  abundance.  From  another  is  taken  away  even 
that  which  he  hath.  Yet,  who  knows?  It  was 
towards  the  east  he  travelled.  The  sun  had  set 
indeed;  but  it  would  rise  again.  And  it  is  always 
in  the  east  that  suns  rise.'  " 

"  Thanks,  J.  J.,"  said  the  Major  sleepily.  "  It's  awfully 
fine.  If  you  wouldn't  mind  putting  it  on  the  dressing- 
table  under  my  brush,  it  will  be  quite  safe  till  morning." 


THE  END 


3*30  C*o 


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